


The Phoenix

by vixenviews (alteringviews)



Series: Media Series [3]
Category: Merlin (TV), The Night Shift (TV 2014)
Genre: 30 Seconds to Mars - Freeform, 90s music, Adopted Children, Alternate Universe - Fusion, BAMF T. C., BAMF TC, BDSM, Bad BDSM Etiquette, Black Character(s), Black Family, Blink and you'll miss it, Bombing, Brother Feels, Coming Out, Dancing, F/F, F/M, Fall Out Boy Lyrics, Family Feels, Flashbacks, Gwaine and T.C. are brothers, Ignoring Season 2 and most of season one, Interracial Relationship, M/M, Military Uniforms, Multi, Out of Body Experiences, PTSD, Secrets, T.C. has a real name, Texas, Triggers, Untamed Zoo Alert, alluded twincest, canon sucks
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-30
Updated: 2016-12-23
Packaged: 2018-05-11 08:22:56
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 27
Words: 164,618
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5620048
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/alteringviews/pseuds/vixenviews
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p><br/>Shoot-outs, storms, and hostage situations--just a routine night shift at San Antonio Memorial Hospital. Under-staffed, under-funded, over-worked and overtime are words that aren't just a part of the vocabulary, but the life style and they're running out of time before someone reaches a breaking point.<br/><br/>Namely TC.<br/><br/>The drama and the stress-levels are at an all-time high. Once you factor in TC's reputation and his relationship with the new NPR, things are probably going to get worse before they get better.<br/><br/>"Why are there two of you?"<br/><br/>Welcome to the night shift.<br/></p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Introduction

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Inspiration from Fall Out Boy's "The Phoenix" and Eoin Macken's twitter post about Merlin x Night Shift Crossovers.
> 
> Anyone have a twitter-- let him know that this is happening!

See the chapter names all together, I imagined it as a conversation between people:

Put On Your War Paint--We Are The Jack-o-Lanterns in July!

Silver Clouds With Grey Linings, You Are A Brick Tied To Me That’s Dragging Me Down. Strike A Match And I’ll Burn You To The Ground, So We Can Take The World Back From The Heart Attacked. He-Here Comes This Rising Tide, So Come On!

Wave The White Flag! Crosswalks And Crossed Hearts And Hope-To Dies, The War Is Won Before It’s Begun. Bring Home The Boys And Scrap Scrap Metal The Tanks. Release The Doves. Surrender, Love. One Maniac at a Time, We Will Take It Back. Because The World Is Just a Teller And We Are Wearing Black Masks,  Get Hitched And Make A Career Out Of Robbing Banks.

“You Broke Our Spirit,” Says The Note We Pass, Setting Fire To The Sky--Doesn’t It Feel Like Our Time Is Running Out?

Hey, Youngblood! No, I Think It Looked A Little Better On Me. You’re Wearing Our Vintage Misery, So Dance Alone To The Beat Of Your Heart. You Know Time Crawls On When You’re Waiting For The Song To Start.     

I’m Gonna Change You, Like A Remix; Then, I’ll Raise You Like A Phoenix.             

 


	2. Put On Your War Paint--

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Storms and drama, PTSD and regret

He sat alone in the locker room breathing deeply. He’d gotten through half the shift today without shaking, without the thoughts, but it had all just quieted down and now there was nothing to distract himself with. Two months ago, he’d been alone in here with her… Two months ago, he’d been ready to ruin her life, but something… something had stopped him…. Maybe it was his conscious, crawling up the muck of his trauma and need. Maybe it was Toph’s kid.

He’d read somewhere that veterans who interacted with children, especially newborns, were generally more at ease and ready to face their trauma. There was something spiritual about a new life in your arms after all. Maybe with her life, something in him decided that he deserved a new one too, that they both did and it was his job to make sure that they didn’t slide back into the spiral they’d had together…

The spiral down he’d made of them, because Jordan would follow him, he knew that much. They had too much history, too much time together. He was safe, charted, known territory. He was a guarantee that no matter how insane he acted, how crazy things got between them, he would love her. She had the sort of heart that would make following him a duty to her, an act of love for him but not for herself.

Toph was right. If he loved Jordan, if he really loved her, he would let her go because God knows she wouldn’t let him go if he was still reaching for her.

  TC shook his head of those romantic notions.  Who the fuck was he kidding? It hadn’t been Toph’s words, or the fact that he did love Jordan. It hadn’t been the timing, or Scott’s appearance at the hospital. Maybe it was just the sound of the shuffle outside, the yelling down the hallway, screaming incoming and distraction that had stopped him then, but he doubted it.

If he’d wanted to, he could have blocked it all out like he did so many other things.

Maybe it hadn’t been him at all, nor Jordan, nor anyone, but _him_ from beyond his Army, heart-less, empty, bloodless grave telling him _Don’t do it, T._

_Don’t do it to yourself…_

He’d like to think that was the case, that Thad had been watching over him warding him off from the deeper spiral he’d been looking down into lately, but he knew that was highly unlikely. It was more likely that Thad had done it to spite him, to make sure that he had one more thing to agonize over.

_You were supposed to cover me, T._

He squeezed his eyes shut, “ _I’m sorry._ ”

But memories don’t accept apologies and when he closes his eyes he smells the sand and heat, feels the adrenaline in his veins, sees Thad sliding down the wall with a hole in his chest. Eyes looking at him helplessly, screaming, _You were supposed to cover me!_

 _I’m sorry_ , TC tells the memory, rocking as the sound of gunshots and army orders ricochet around in his head.

_I’m sorry._

_I’m sorry._

_I’m sorry._

His hip beeped, the sound of the end of his “break” and the return to the fray that needed him, that he needed, the chaos he thrived in because he couldn’t live in peace. His war zone… his never ending Afghanistan. Maybe it was because he wanted to help, but TC knew that it was just penance. A way to never let go… He saw Thad’s face in every person he saved. Saw him dying a thousand times over even though he hadn’t lost anyone on the table since Thad. Maybe if he saved enough lives, Thad would forgive him… but how many was enough to forgive the betrayal, to fill the void of a brother lost? A son? A husband?

He winced at the thought of Annie, the way she’d screamed, clutching her stomach screaming at the grave at the funeral… How she’d left and never came back. Sick to her stomach because she just couldn’t take it… How it had been his fault and that one extra life had been added to the guilt. Her words echoed in the hollow places he’d made in himself, screaming, _Why didn’t you bring him home?_

Like some fucked up Cain and Abel story.  

 _You were supposed to look out for him, T’,_ she’d said. _You were supposed to bring him home!_

“We’ve got incoming,” Ragosa said, announcing his presence on the floor. “Chopper flying out to the scene in five, get who you need and get moving. We’re still short on doctors so everyone’s going to have to pull their weight and then some. First incoming ETA in twenty.”

The E.R. room went up in that familiar adrenaline-heart rhythm to receive the incoming rush of patients that had to be stabilized and the rest to be operated on. To make it even worse, there was supposed to be a new person starting that night…set to come in and hadn’t made it quite yet. No one but Ragosa knew when they were supposed to start, who they were, what they were doing here of all places, but no one questioned it. What a night to start at a hospital.

“Because we need another late comer to add to this untamed zoo,” Ragosa growled and lifted the phone just as it started ringing hearing that the storm had caused a major pile up on the main high way.

No fires but plenty of crashes and a serious one at that. Firefighters were rushing to the scene and he’d just sent his team to fly in not too far from it. He could only hope that the night wouldn’t go as bad as it could go. Given that it was still raining like the middle of the rain forest, he could hear the ticking clock, the rising tide that would make any form of rescue impossible.

 TC grabbed an EMT bag and followed the others. Once he’d climbed on to the plane and put on his headphones, he realized that he probably just made the atmosphere awkward. For one, Topher wasn’t there to ease the tension. Scott was giving him that look and Jordan was doing her best not to look at either of them.

“Why is Ragosa sending you?” Jordan asked directing her eyes at Scott. “Shouldn’t you be waiting for patients back at the ER?”

Scott only shrugged, “The nurses are scurrying to prep, he thought there might have to be an onsite surgery… So I’ll need you to back me up.”

Jordan nodded as TC remained silent and looked out the window into the rainfall as the pilot told them that was as far as he could take them. TC grabbed the rope and did his best to push back the memories of falling down a line into more dangerous situations. At least there was rain, cool and calming. Ambulance sirens went off and he heard people screaming. He heard Scott and Jordan peeking into the cars to see who was left as TC went straight for the main crash site.

“Doctor coming through!” He called out, hailing the parties in attendance.

The car was practically on its nose, resting against the remains of the 18-wheeler and he saw a body bent over into the window. A woman he guessed from the skirt riding high on her thighs..

“What’s happening?” He asked the first fire fighter, yelling over the rain.

“Gas leak, we aren’t sure if we can get the kid out, without jostling the car.”

“What about the others?”

“Already dragged out by that woman up there trying to get the kid out the back seat. She’s pinned on something.”

TC moved forward and the first thing he realized was that the woman was in a very tidy skirt, her feet clad in black flats hooked into the base of the car as she hung and spoke quietly to the child, somehow audible over the torrent of rain.

“What’s your name sweetheart? Can you move?”

“I’m here to help,” he said, peering down, but all he could see were wet twists corralled into a haphazard bun at the back of her head, loose twists dangling in his way and hear her voice. “There’s an ambulance and a med-copter on standby to get everyone out.”

“ _It hurts,_ ” a small voice said from inside.

“I know sweetie, but I’ve got you. I got your parents out and I’m going to get you out too, okay? You’re doing great.”

Her head tilted up, turning, obviously speaking to him, softly, “Eight ccs of morphine and a sling.”

TC opened the bag and told her, “Morphine, I’ve got-- no sling.”

“Then a jacket, I just need something to cradle her out. She’s pinned to the car seat.”

He frowned and pulled off his jacket, he couldn’t see how big the kid was but when the mystery woman let herself slide forward a little more he had a feeling that this was going to be interesting.

“Time for a magic show!”

The child giggled, soft and pained. He had the sense that the child couldn’t have been more than a few years old, maybe two or three. The woman passed back the empty syringe and continued on with what she was doing.

“You know how in all those stunt movies, they have the actors in those holsters, I’m going to make one for you right now—like magic!”

“There’s no such thing as magic,” the little voice said.

“Yes huh…”

 “Nuh uh…”

“Yes huh…”

She grabbed the coloring board behind her and her stuffed animal to roll up and support the small of her back. She looped the arms of the jacket through the loops of the car seat, then around her waist to secure the board and animal and support her back.  When it was tied, she checked the compression around the puncture in her side. There was no way of telling if the glass had punctured anything vital, but given the size of the shard, she wasn’t willing to test it. She pulled herself back and moved to pull the child up out through the back of the car, wrapping both arms of the jacket around her arms and bending her knees.

At the click of the button, she pulled the seatbelt free of the car seat and began to lift the car seat and child up through the back window. The paramedic who’d come to help slipped his arms underneath the car seat to swing her out and hand her off to the firemen waiting below them. The woman leapt to the ground and rattled off information to both TC and Jordan who’d come to help.

Through the rain and the adrenaline, he yelled, “Is she the last one?”

She shook her head, talking to the little girl and the EMT, “They’re going to take you to San Antonio Memorial where your parents are headed, alright? They’ll take good care of you.”

“Thank you, Halle.”

She smiled and waved the ambulance off before turning around to head back towards the rest of the cars where someone was screaming for help. TC followed her around the side towards the voice.

Her attention turned towards the ditch that was filling up and therefore filling up the car. The woman was beating against the back windows of the small sedan. It had been driven nose first into a ditch, the car was off and it was deep enough that the water was getting to a dangerous level.

“He’s unconscious! The doors won’t open. Help please!”

Halle yelled back for the fire fighters and the rest of the crew as TC found himself once again at her side sloughing through the mud and the rising water to try the door. The woman’s eyes flickered and they heard the sound of the metal saw in the distance, no one was coming to help them or maybe no one could hear them. The woman screamed as the car sunk a little, shifted and tilted the driver’s side deeper into the water where the man remained unconscious.

 “Oh god, he won’t wake up! Please help.”

“We’re going to do everything we can. Right now, we need to get you out of the car,” she said in a voice that was more care than authority.

“I’m not leaving him,” the woman said and rather than argue with her the woman asked another question, digging for the knife she always kept on her.

“Is he breathing?”

“I think so, he’s bleeding,” she said. “Is he going to be alright?”

“We’re going to do everything we can,” the woman said again, the water sloshed as she pulled a knife from her waist. “Can you undo your seatbelt and maybe pop the trunk? The doors are stuck.”

The woman shook, “The trunk lever is on his side, it’s all dented in.”

“Alright, does the seat let down? What about the keys?”

She nodded but said that the keys were waterlogged, “I need you to let the seat down, alright? So we can pull you out through the back.”

She nodded, climbing between the seat to reach for the lever on the back seat as Halle moved around to the back and jammed her knife into the tumbler. She jiggled the handle until she felt a click and twisted before lifting the trunk up and pulling the luggage aside and out, hoping that they had insurance for everything in the car.

“Where’d you learn to do that?” TC asked.

Halle snorted, “The streets.”

He almost laughed, pulling the luggage out with her until the back seat began to fall forward and they could see the woman. TC reached in to slide her out the back against her wishes.

“But Kevin!”

“It’s alright, mam we’re going to get him out,” Halle told her and moved to slide into the car, finding her footing on the dashboard to check his pulse. Alive. It was weaker than it should have been, his breathing was almost nonexistent meaning something was blocking his airway or crushing him, but they had to get him out soon even without that. It didn’t sound like a puncture lung or something as equally troubling. Shock she decided was the more likely culprit. The water was rising, the windows were cracked and water was already leaking through. The car shifted again, deeper into the ditch and began rocking with the motion of the water. She undid the seatbelt and felt along his side. It felt like a puncture but wasn’t breathing heavily enough to be major, but she couldn’t know for sure. Either way, she’d have to get him out.

“The lock’s are supposed to unlock…. I don’t understand.”

“Are you hurt, mam?”

She shook her head, “I don’t think so. He swerved off the road and we crashed into the ditch….”

The woman shook her head clear as TC settled her on the ground and gave her a quick once over. Whiplash, shock, a touch of a chill, and a few scratches, she would be fine.

A gust of wind carried a new wave of water washing over the car and extending the crack in the windshield until it burst and water began flooding the cabin.

“Hey!” TC yelled in to the cab, “What do you need?”

She heard him, cutting his shirt away, removing his belt and wrapping the cloth around him as she tilted the man away from the dent in the wall. She strapped the belt over the makeshift bandage and moved towards the back seat as water reached the seat. It took some maneuvering to get her arms underneath his and tug him towards the backseat; she kicked against the back of the front seat to tug him into the trunk away from the rising water.  The car shifted and the water sloshed forward over them.

“Kevin!”

She kicked harder to bring her head above water and pulled until he surfaced, catching the edge of back seat’s head rest with the edge of her foot and kicking harder. TC saw the tops of their heads before he was reaching in to grab her arm and pull them both out of the rising tide of water. Eventually, they both had enough leverage to get him out of the car and let Halle climb out behind him. If she wasn’t soaked before, she was now. Her shirt plastered to her uncomfortably, her skirt wasn’t much better now that the side split had been widened just a bit and she’d lost a flat in the struggle to get him out of the car.  TC skimmed his hands over his sides before coming into contact with the source of the growing blood patch in the makeshift bandage.

“Oh thank God… thank you…”

From the position, it was probably not a major artery, but could have been a major organ.

“Is he alright?”

“We’re going to do everything we can,” TC replied as Halle produced a flashlight from TC’s bag as he ripped the man’s shirt to see the full extent of the damage. Flesh wounds definitely.

“Probably on impact,” TC said, “Not sure how deep it is, can’t see it too well, but his pulse doesn’t seem to be weak enough for internal bleeding. No discoloration.”

“No breathing,” Halle said pulling out a breathing mask to place over his face and breathing hard, and waiting for his lungs to distend.

“No puncture, good.”

The man coughed and sputtered on the second try and Halle felt his pulse get a little stronger, “Vitals are gaining strength. No sign of other injury.”

She opened one eye to check his pupil dilation, “Possible concussion.”

“Can’t get a sterile seal with the rain,”

She turned to the woman, “You have an umbrella? Anything like that?”

She nodded shakily and went back to the sinking car to pull it out of the trunk and extend it over their heads. Halle held the flashlight in her mouth as she pulled on gloves and opened sterile packages.

“Tongs, got to get this glass out. Scalpel…”

She passed them dutifully, checking his pulse and keeping the light still between her teeth.

“Prep a needle, no internal bleeding, he’s damn lucky he didn’t break something more serious. Pressure there, suction here, needle.”

She passed it to him, pressing against the wound and watching him do the quickest stitch possible after tossing piece of glass to the side.

“There should be EMTs around, go find someone to get him on a stretcher and out of the rain. Tell them possible concussion, treat for shock and blood loss.”

The woman nodded nervous eyes between the three before giving the umbrella to Halle and running off to yell through the rain and against the wind.

“I can’t get it to stay,” he said frustrated. Halle grabbed for a stack of gauze to dab at his fingers as she held the umbrella between her shoulder and her cheek. “It’s too wet.”

She dabbed again, until it was dry, “ _catch stitch”_ she managed against the flashlight.

“You’re brilliant,” he said with a grin and set to work on the small row of x shaped stitches and slid the needle through the row of them. Not exactly a surgical stitch, but by design it would hold and the slickness would only help make the stitch easier. She covered the stitches with gauze and went about taping it down and covering the wound with a plastic bag that she taped and sealed as well.

By then the EMTs were coming and lifting him up and TC was telling them what happened and getting the other woman into the EMT helicopter. Halle climbed in to the copter with them. The woman they’d gotten out was there, her eyes on the man who lay unconscious as they took off and she spoke quietly to the woman. When they landed, she went out with them, helping the woman get to triage to be looked over and scoring her a place near the man who was still unconscious.

“Is he going to be okay?”

“I think he’ll pull through…” Halle said with a smile. “I’m sure a doctor will be with you soon…”

A pained groan sounded and the woman was out of her seat at the man’s side in a manner of seconds, “Babe? What happened?”

Halle stepped forward as the woman began to fuss over him, kiss him soundly, “I have a few questions.”

He looked at her blearily, “Who are you?”

“She helped get you out of the car… She got us help…”

“What is your name?”

“Kurtis Walters,” he said.

“What is her name?”

“Rachel Walters, my wife.”

Rachel smiled, kissing his cheek.

“What year is it?”

“2014.”

“Who is the president?”

“Obama.”

She nodded, “Your head seems to be in the right place, I’ll let them know.”

“No need,” she turned around to see the man that had come with an EMT bag now in a set of fresh scrubs, hair still wet. Looking at him now in the full light of the hospital, she was pleasantly surprised. Good in a dicey situation, not afraid to dive in, and handsome. San Antonio Memorial was looking up.

“I’m Doctor Callahan… How are you feeling?”

“My chest hurts…my head hurts, and I’m tired.”

“You hit your head. I’ve sent off to have you imaged for any other damage and a possible concussion, but for right now get and stay comfortable.”

He nodded, “Thank you, doctors.”

The woman told him that she wasn’t a doctor but to rest up all the same. She turned with TC to leave, “How is Anne?”

He turned to look at her fully now that there was full lightning and no storm. Her voice made him think of warm sunny days on the beach—the sort of soothing that came with emptying your mind of everything. Drenched and dripping on the floor, he could also tell that she was wearing a very discreet black bra beneath her mud and blood stained white shirt, vest, and skirt combination… That and she was pretty and made him think of a girl he’d dated in high school, a cross between Serena Williams and Flo-Jo in  build, but older and with far more generous curves.

He tilted his head, “The little girl? As far as I know she’s going to be just fine. Sprained her back, some bruising and whiplash, but she should be fine. The glass hit nothing vital.” She nodded, “Are you going to sit down and let someone look over you now?”

She laughed, “I pulled over and I’m already late… but maybe in a minute.”

He tilted his head following her towards the front of the hospital where Ragosa was on the phone, angry and waiting.

“Hello Ms. Martin, this is Superintendent Michael Ragosa from San Antonio Memorial Hospital calling. I assume that either you are –“

“My phone is water-logged,” she said holding it up with a smile. “Hello Superintendent Ragosa…”

He blinked and looked at her in her drenched and stained clothing, the rip in her skirt making it less than business professional, then set the phone down, “You… came in on the chopper.”

She nodded, “Still late, but I was helping tend people at the site if that counts for anything…”

He blinked, not exactly what he thought was going to happen but as more people were filling the hospital lobby and TC was nearing to get charts and patient status, he rolled with it. TC grabbed his charts and left, headed off to whatever he was doing. Ragosa ushered her towards the locker rooms, told her to pick a locker that was empty and where the extra scrubs were before bowing out to let her change and shower. The water was hot, to her surprise, and she welcomed it, rinsing her hair free of the dirty mess and who knew what else was in the ditch before drying off and finagling a bra out of a roll of dressing and bagging her soggy wet clothes. She’d have to take down her hair and wash it properly when she got home, but for now it was best to just braid the individual twists together and pin it into a bun at the back of her head that was a little more put together than before. They gave her socks, plain maroon scrubs, and hospital slippers and by the time she was feeling a little more human, Ragosa had rallied the shift to introduce her.

She smiled politely at the crew and found Jay, Jayden Thomas, the woman she grew up with that told her to apply to San Antonio Memorial. She shook hands with Scott and Jordan, the apparent power couple of the ER before Jayden grabbed her and dragged her back to the locker rooms to offer her underwear and a real bra. The fact that she had both, fresh out of packaging was telling of the insanity of the night shift.

“I love you,” Halle told her.

Jayden nodded, “I know. You’ve already made quite the impression on everyone being a part of the first response.”

“Yeah… and now my car’s out there…”

“Did you crash?”

“No,” she said shaking her head. “Just barely avoided that… but I had to ditch my car to help out you know?”

She nodded, Halle was always like that, even when they were kids, she didn’t expect anything different, “I’ll show you around but for now, I’ve got to get back to work and you have to go bond with the other NPR’s.”

She winced, it probably wouldn’t turn out the way she hoped and true to her thoughts, the Nurse Practioners were cliquish and unwilling to do much more than tell her that she was on the night shift, good luck, and know that they got pulled into surgery pretty often. Being that she was a trained surgeon’s assistant, she expected that she would be pulled in far more often than they implied. On her break, Jayden took her around to all of the wards and the cafeteria and finally to the tailgate where the Night Shift breaks actually happened. Halle made note of the state of the hospital, while not ideal to work in, it would be perfect for her research project, which was the main reason she was at San Antonio Memorial. They were understaffed, underfunded, and went through some of the most insane bouts of patients in the entire San Antonio Hospital system… That and the Hospital Board were more than happy to allow her the use of their hospital for her research where others hadn’t been so welcoming.

With the crisis of the night, the tailgate was pretty empty but quiet and Jayden met a Nurse from the pediatric ward, called “Cindy” who had some sort of ESP about the disasters about to happen.

“She had _senses_ way before the announcement came…”Jayden shook her head.

“I’m always right though.”

“I’ll remember to check in with you every shift,” Halle said. “Is there anything else I should know about the ER department?”

“They’re mostly army people, but that shouldn’t be a problem for you…”

Of course not, it was one of the main selling point of San Antonio, besides being nearer to Jayden and her Dad.

“And the doctors?”

“There is a division in the ER ward amongst factions. There’s the Scott side and the TC Side and then there’s Jordan…”

“Sides?”

“There’s some tension between the three of them… There’s Tenant, Smith and Oswald.” Halle’s right eyebrow drifted up as she took a sip of what was honestly the worst coffee she’d ever had, black or not. It would take a metric ton of creamer and sugar to fix this and the break room had been gleefully out of all of it.

San Antonio was in a worse shape than she thought initially; she pulled out a pad of paper and took the note.

Jayden shook her head, “There’s drama. TC and Jordan used to be a thing and then they weren’t and they had some awkward time before Scott got here. Jordan and Scott are a thing and Scott and TC don’t see eye to eye…”

She nodded, “I see…So who is Tenant?”

“Is that even a question?” Jayden snorted. “TC definitely…. We’re only making Scott Smith because he is actually over Trauma and Jordan is Oswald is technically Smith’s companion, but timey wimey wibbly wobbly _I can’t make up my mind_ , you know?”

“Drama,” she surmised, even if the comparison wasn’t completely solid. “With a capital D.”

Jayden laughed, “Yeah, but at least there won’t be anyone trying to impress you with their doctoral degrees.”

Halle shook her head, the Head of ER at Los Angeles’ main hospital had been the kind of arrogant you only heard about on TV: a swaggering peacock of epic proportions. He made it a point to point out that he went to a “Top-Tier” Medical School and did his residency in a “top-tier” hospital. He would never specify which one, but lorded it over her as if, somehow, by being a nurse practioner and surgeon’s assistant, she’d taken the lazy way into the medical field. Even though she proved herself repeatedly that she was far more than his assumptions and didn’t deserve his posturing.  She couldn’t wait to see him at the Southwest Medial Conference in the Spring and rub his face in her alma mater, her degrees, and where _she’d_ done her residency and primary training. She wasn’t usually so vengeful, but he’d hit all the wrong buttons before she’d left.

“Well, this is my last resort,” Halle said. “Let’s hope everything turns out okay.”

Jayden grinned, “I’m sure it will.”

Halle was glad that someone thought so because all in all she was beginning to consider taking her alma mater up on their offer to come be an official researcher for them.  She was officially in contract with San Antonio Memorial for one year, due to her research. When that was over she’d have yet another decision to make.

“I’ll do what I can,” Halle said with a nod. “I can’t do more than that.”

Jay grinned and nodded at her, “You’re going to be just fine here. We could honestly use you.”

She had no doubt about that, but was San Antonio Memorial ready for the kinds of changes she’d planned on implementing?

She guessed they would just have to see.


	3. We Are The Jack-O-Lanterns In July!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Halle and TC meet in the locker room, PTSD, and phone calls.

It’s a surprisingly rare day when TC arrives before everyone else. On time, always, a little early-- it happens, but never before everyone else. A few months ago, he’d be barely getting in on time from spending the night in a jail cell for a night that got a little too rowdy. But today, he’d decided to be a little early to get some time to himself, not really to himself. He was going stir crazy in his condo and at the very least the hospital was calming in a different way. Perhaps he’d go wander around and visit the kids before his shift.

He parks his bike and walks into the hospital towards the locker room. He hasn’t slept in three days and is running on about ten cups of coffee, but he feels fine… And if that wasn’t enough, the sight he walked into as he turned the corner heading towards his locker was definitely bound to wake him up.

_Holy Heaven,_ his luck couldn’t be that good.

She was clearly preoccupied with her magenta scrub top half way on, covering her bra, but leaving everything else in full view. She turned, digging through her bag, her face covered by her locker door as she busied herself with braiding long twists together and over one shoulder. Skin the color of his favorite concentration of chocolate with undertones of gold, a strong torso with just enough muscle peeking through to give her an athletic look leading into sheer, teal all lace underwear that cut high over her hip and traced the curve of her ass.  She turned to lift her bag into the locker and he stifled a grunt seeing her ass fully. They were just short of covering her ass completely. He got a good glimpse of a jagged scar as well. He couldn’t tell how big it was, but he bet it was a bullet wound.

Maybe she was ex-army like so much of San Antonio Memorial.

He wished he could see if the bra matched the underwear, but as she tugged her arm through the shirt and the shirt down, another fantasy struck him that was entirely more fulfilling: her in nothing but a scrub top and heels… his scrub top and heels. He shook his head, he hadn’t had a libido in months and now it seemed to be conjuring images about a complete stranger…

Who was now looking at him, realizing he was there.

Their eyes met and held as he took in the features of her face. Beautiful in that exotic way that was wildly appealing for all sorts of reasons with dark eyes that slanted a bit and made him think of Egyptian hieroglyphs.

Nefertiti anyone? He hadn’t noticed most of that the night of the storm when they’d met. He guessed without the adrenaline his eyes took in the details of her aesthetics…

How could he have missed that she was undeniably attractive… and uncommonly gorgeous too?

“Uhm… hi,” she started, stealthily trying to tug her shirt down and save what little modesty she thought she could.

A woman who wore lingerie to work in a hospital and hung upside down into toppled cars in business skirts… shy? He offered her a smile.

“Talk about a pre-shift pick me up…”

Her eyes widen a little bit and he isn’t sure if it’s the quality of his voice or his words that make them do that, but he decides that he definitely likes it and wants to know if she generally shows exactly how she feels or if the situation is just making her a little more honest than usual.

She bites her lip, full and slightly wet, “Wasn’t expecting anyone here…”

“Clearly…” he said with a nod, holding her gaze. “Is this an everyday thing?”

“What?”

“The lingerie.”

Her jaw dropped in shock as he meandered down the row to where his locker was, an honestly perfect vantage point to where she stood and just in time to get another peek at her lace-covered ass. How the fuck was he going to be able to concentrate knowing the body she was sporting beneath those maroon scrubs? Heaven help him.

_Now_ , his libido had decided to rear its head, though he supposed if a sight like that couldn’t do it, nothing would. At least he wasn’t so fucked up that he couldn’t appreciate the finer things in life still.

He heard her locker close as he tugged on his own scrubs and her steps came towards him, her scrub cap in her pocket—non-standard. It was black with some sort of fire colored symbol on it, but he couldn’t see it very well.

“I’m Halle Martin,” she said extending her hand. “I think we’re a little past the formalities now that you’ve seen my underwear, Dr. Callahan.”

He grinned and shook her hand. She had the kind of grip made of army nights and marine days. Militant, sure, confident, not a wilting flower at all. The kind of grip that would make having her around fun. If he had to guess, that pretty face made her the object of a lot of chauvinism and the handshake was just one more way to tell the swaggering assholes to go fuck themselves.

He liked her already.

“TC.  And if it’ll make us even you’re welcome to peek at mine,” he grinned and winked at her.

Her eyes widened fractionally and drifted over him, “What?”

“I’ve heard a lot about you,” she said. “No one ever calls you Dr. Callahan.”

“Oh yeah? That I’m trouble?”

“That you’re brilliant,” she said. “And over-worked.”

TC laughed, “You must be talking to the wrong people.”

Her nose scrunched a bit as their eyes met. Though there were no rings, there was that general sense of exhaustion about him, in his eyes especially. They were glazed over as if he was only half-way here, the other part of him somewhere else—maybe asleep, maybe in Afghanistan. His skin looked as though it was missing some sleeping hours and of course, the smile he gave her didn’t reach his eyes. There had been no real heat in his eyes when their eyes met earlier. An aesthetic appreciation, but nothing more than that. He was too tired to fathom anything more, though he seemed intent on making her think he did…. Or rather intent on making himself believe he did… She wasn’t sure which option worried her more.

He was the kind of army veteran and doctor combination that she’d written her preliminary proposals on, the kind she encountered in Veteran Hospitals a seemingly textbook case. Clinging to a sense of normalcy to keep the demons at bay… what demons kept him up at night she wondered. The strength of those who soldiered on always amazed and inspired her to soldier on, inspired her to want to care for those that had been used and thrown away.

Used until there was nothing left but the black badge of service worn behind their eyes and carved into their psyche.

_Poetic,_ she thought. She’d have to remember that phrase for her presentation in the spring.

“We’ll see,” Halle said. “I’m sure you’ll be hearing the same thing about me given enough time.”

He snorted, “Ragosa wouldn’t have hired another wild animal into this untamed zoo. He’s concerned about property damage.”

She grinned and doesn’t mention the fact that Ragosa didn’t hire her, “Maybe just a wild animal of a different kind.”

That gave him pause as she put her stethoscope around her neck and turned to exit, “There’s food in the breakroom. I’d suggest you eat now before everyone else shows up.”

With that, she left and TC had a funny feeling that she knew more than he’d told her in just that short conversation. He didn’t let himself think too much more on it. He was feeling sluggish and needed at least one or two more cups of deadly coffee before the shift began if he was going to make it until he had a break.

When he arrived in the breakroom, there was in fact a ridiculous amount of food on the main table. Pastries, tacos, fresh fruit and all manner of foods that definitely hadn’t been there the day before. To make it even better: a fresh pot of coffee sat in the coffee maker calling his name like some goddamn pedophile with candy. It didn’t smell like the normal brand (Folgers or whatever was cheapest), but he doubted it would matter. Caffeine was caffeine once it got into his system.

He made himself a plate, poured a large cup and ate. He groaned just as Jordan came through the door. Her eyes drifted over the spread and then landed on TC and the obscene sounds he was making.

He looked tired, but then again… TC always looked tired. She hadn’t quite figured out if it was the late night drinking, the late night bar fights, or the late nights at the hospital that did it.

“What’s all this?” Jordan asked. Scott, Drew, and Ragosa following behind.

They all looked over the spread and then to TC as if he was supposed to explain it. TC took a drink of his coffee, groaned again and moved to refill his plate.

“ _Sweet dreams are made of this,_ ” He said and promptly stuffed half a shredded beef, egg, and tomatillo salsa taco in his mouth and let out another groan, “ _So good…_ ”

While odd, it was nice to see TC eating, she couldn’t remember the last time she’s seen him eating anything, let alone a taco. She didn’t let her eyes linger on him, or pay attention to the blissful expression on his face as he had another cup of coffee and continued to eat. Scott moved in to make a plate as Ragosa surveyed the room and looked pensive. Landry made an appearance with her usual smile and a light in her eyes that none of them could place. It didn’t matter though, because the food was _fantastic_.

“Slow down or you’ll bust something,” Drew said looking at TC and eating as well. “Not that I blame you.”

“Drew,” TC started. “Tell me I’m dreaming.”

“You’re awake,” Drew assured. “God help us if we were in each other’s dreams.”

TC snorted, “I won’t tell Rick if you won’t.”

Drew snorted as more people filed in for the beginning of shift and they had their fill. He wasn’t sure what it was exactly, but TC felt markedly better like he’d taken a shot of that five hour energy without the side effects. He was in luck because not even an hour into the shift, all hell broke loose in the form of several emergency room patients pouring in from a nearby fire. Despite the fact that he was running on no sleep what so ever, he felt awake, alert enough to triage and perform immediate care. If he had to say, he was in the zone in a way that he hadn’t been in a while. Thus, mid-shift coffee break brought more than just more coffee into his cup, but more food into his life. Usually, he would have required at least three more, but somehow just one was enough to jolt him awake.

He was almost honor bound to thank Ragosa for it all, but as he was just as confused as the rest of them, it was obvious that it wasn’t Ragosa’s doing. Jayden popped her head in to the break room before asking if anyone had seen Halle.  Kenny told her that she’d been pulled into surgery to fill in for one of the nurses who was out that day. Jayden rolled her eyes, she hadn’t even been there a full week yet and already she was getting called in to fill in. Such was the way of San Antonio Memorial.

 She went back to the front desk to where the man in full Naval attire stood waiting patiently, probably narrowly avoiding being hit on by the staff or abused by other parts of the staff. The Army dominated San Antonio Memorial after all. He had his hat tucked underneath an arm and that smile that was so common to the Baker boys. Admiral Camden Wyndhaven grinned at her, still the color of sand over amber with eyes like Halle’s brown and dark low cut hair. At the ripe age of 46, Camden was a very well-respected Admiral in the Navy. He hadn’t planned on making a career out of it and had been trying, more or less, to get out of it for the last ten years or so; however, that just didn’t seem to be in the cards. If he was still in the military by the time he turned fifty, he would be all kinds of upset.

“Still working with that low cut, I’ve noticed.”

He snorted, “It’s nice to see you too, Jay. Where‘s my sack of potatoes? In surgery?”

She shrugged, “You know how she is. She gets somewhere and people ask her to do things, then you never see her again.”

Camden nodded, that was the way it happened more often than not. No matter where Halle went she presented herself as someone who was not only capable but willing to do the job that was asked of her…. which also meant that he’d be waiting a while.

“Can I get you anything? I think Halle’s implementing her research officially.”

“I’m always good for a taco.”

She snorted, of course he was. She told him to stay put, don’t get carried off, and she would be right back. Camden only laughed. It was good to see that Jay hadn’t lost her personality working in San Antonio Memorial. She came back with three tacos and extra avocado slices for him and he pledged his everlasting love to her.

“Aren’t I missing a few things?”

“Love goes beyond the body, Jay,” he said wisely managing to chow through two of the three in record time.

Halle got out of surgery around midnight and while the man would be just fine, she was beginning to wonder exactly how understaffed the hospital was when she, an NPR in the ER, was pulled by the cardio department to help. Not that she minded or wasn’t capable, but it was telling. She let out a deep breath and pulled her scrub cap off heading towards the front desk when she saw him.

Just as tall as she remembered, she hadn’t seen him in years though they talked regularly. He grinned at her giving her a mock salute across the distance.

“Beanstalk!” The word came from her almost too quick to stop as she hustled down the hall to launch herself at him.

He laughed, managing to catch her and squeeze her tightly, spinning around as she laughed and talked almost too fast and too animated for him to understand. It was almost as if she was a kid again, at the airport waiting for him to spend his first leave with him. As soon as she’d seen him, she’d ditched the messy sign she’d made for him and made a beeline straight for him down the corridor. That same settled feeling of familiarity, warmth, love and safety washed over him.

He was home.

“You should have said you were coming.”

“It’s called a surprise, Potatoes.” He whispered and set her down. She grinned up at him. “Besides, I figured you could use a bit of a pick me up.”

She nodded excitedly, “Always. You’re the best pick me up a girl could ask for.”

“You only say that because I bring you presents.”

She wrapped her arms around him and squeezed, burying her face in the curve of his shoulder, “Not true and you know it.”

He laughed and squeezed her back, “I know.”

“How long are you staying?”

“A few weeks, got to visit Mom and Dad, of course. When are you off? Can I steal you and Jay away for some sensible conversation?”

Unfortunately, they were barely half way through the shift, but as soon as they were off, they were free to converse. He grinned and told her he’d come back and that he was staying in a hotel.

“If you’d said something, I would have had a room made up for you already,” she pouted. “You can always come stay with me, Cam.”

He knew that and told her that he’d come stay after she got off and not a moment before.

“Don’t need your neighbors thinking you got into trouble with the Navy.”

Her neighbors loved her and she hadn’t even been moved in for a month or so. He kissed her forehead and told her he had one more stop to make before checking in to his hotel and sleeping for the next twelve hours or so.

The rest of the shift is something like floating. Seeing Camden always lifted her spirits, no matter how down she was, thus she was humming in the locker room, a dancy tune as people filed in to change and go home.

“What are you so excited about?” Kenny asked. “Hot date with a Marine?”

“He’s an Admiral actually.”

Kenny threw up his hands, “Ooh, feisty. Love a woman who stands behind her man.”

Halle laughed, “He’s my brother, Kenny. Not my man.”

Kenny made a sound, thoughtful and maybe a little confused, “I would have never guessed.”

She shrugged, “No one ever does.”

She grabbed her clothes, shoved them in her bag and waited for Jay to be ready to go. She would crash at Halle’s place until it was time to party it up with Camden. Surprisingly, he contacted them a few hours before they were set to be back on shift. They go to an old haunt of their childhood for dinner and laughter. The server recognizes them almost instantly and before they know it they’ve talked through the last few years and it’s edging towards the beginning of shift.

Camden takes her spare house key and drops them off at the hospital as he is the only sibling she’d trust with her car.

“See you later, Potatoes,” he said softly, soaking in the fact that she was there, he was there and everything would be all right.

“Love you, beanstalk.”

“Love you too, potatoes. Now go on and save lives in lingerie.”

Jay laughed as Halle swatted him and turned to march into the hospital. She’d taken the time to change in a stall today, rushing to get ready before the shift began and check in with Cindy who reported no senses so they should have a pretty quiet night. Quiet enough maybe to take that informal survey in the period she’d wanted: break time.

As she knew, they staggered their breaks throughout the shift for the most part and if she was right, her break would line up with Drew, Topher and a few other doctors that were spaced throughout the hospital. As she thought, the constant presence of quality food and quality coffee had made some obvious changes in the staff. They were more alert, their reaction time was significantly faster in just the few weeks she’d implemented the test.

“Hey Halle,” Drew greeted. “How are you settling in?”

She grinned, “Hit the ground sprinting seems to be the name of the game here.”

Drew nodded, “The adrenaline rush, nothing like it.”

Halle nodded and stepped around the edges of their thoughts on the new trial psych policy the administration was thinking of implementing. She felt bad for Landry having to deal with psychiatric patients as well as the staff would be a lot. She was supposed to be having a meeting with them to discuss the details as they hadn’t officially broadcasted what they were going to do so much that it was coming.

“It’s easier because we all know Landry… and maybe a little harder too.” One of them said. “It’s not like she’s scary or anything, but having to basically open up your chest and let your guts pour out isn’t exactly easy.”

“Think it’d be better to give you an outlet that didn’t feel like yet another piece of the job.”

Drew shrugged, “Administration and paperwork, they go hand in hand like a jab and an upper cut.”

Halle laughed, but it gave her a glimmer of an idea. One that she would let grow at the back of her mind over the rest of the week before her meeting with the Hospital Board.

“Hey,” they turned to see Jordan. “Has anyone seen TC?”

Drew shook his head, despite the fact he had in fact seen TC. It was about the time for his bi-weekly call. No way in hell he was going to let Jordan, with whatever bullshit, administrative or otherwise, ruin the little bit of solace TC had. When she leaves and the others file out, Halle looked at Drew.

“You’re a good friend,” She said with an odd smile.

Drew tilted his head, “Don’t tell me you have ESP too.”

She snorted, “No, just a good lie detector.”

*

There’s someone screaming in his ears, it’s pain and fire bombs raining down from the sky in between the rings of the telephone. He knows that the other will pick up, but his heart whispers that he won’t. That he’s tired of TC, ashamed of him, unwilling to claim him as a brother even though they have the exact same face… the same build… the same almost everything. The screaming gets louder as the ringing goes on.

_My leg! My goddamn leg!_

Ring…

_Hostiles on the left flank!_ His commander yelled, he only hoped that they’d be able to get to him in time, that TC would have enough time that the man wouldn’t get his head blown off while screaming in agony. 

_Go, go, go!_

…Ring…

Sand takes flight on the wind as another barrage of shots sounds, lifting more sand and brining more noise. He aims and fires in the direction the bullets come from, shooting at least one of the snipers down before, ducking behind the building as the other continues shooting.

_Mont’s down! Oh god—Callahan! Someone get, Callahan!_

Fucking Montgomery, the man has a death wish, has ever since TC was transferred into their regiment. He’d be damned if today was the day Mont’ got his wish. He had family to go home to, family that loved him. _Not again,_ he swears under his breath taking a deep breath. Not again.

He rushes around the corner through the floating sand haze, screaming, firing and rolling across the ground to where they dragged Montgomery. Someone screams--a hostile he knows form the distance, an explosion goes off as he presses against the wound and Montgomery looks up at him with those fearful eyes that just want peace. He isn’t made for war, neither is TC but somehow he’s hanging on by the edges of his fingernails. Adrenaline rushes through his veins, drawing up facts, statistics, hours and hours of learning to his fingers that make quick work of bullet in his chest before moving to his leg. A GSW through and through, he was lucky it was just a flesh wound.

_You’re going to be alright, just stay calm for me. Breathe-Mont’. Breathe!_

His own breath is running out of time with him, his fingers are wet, no time for gloves, Montgomery is growing paler from shock and blood loss and all he can do is sew him up, patch him up until they get back to base.

If they make it back to base. The radio is ringing yet no one can answer, firing for their lives as bombs explode, grenades go off.

_Ring_ , the damn radio is ringing, it’d better be some goddamn back up. TC reaches for it, blood slick fingers bringing the phone to his ear as he hears that his commander has just went down and needs medical assistance. Hostiles are closing in. The world is spinning and Montgomery is still bleeding.

“Hello, Face Stealer.”

TC choked out a laugh, leaning against Drew’s truck in the parking lot. It’s dark but he’s blinded. Now, it’s a dark midnight and he’s far beyond the circle of light of the hospital. The memories of then, the sun, the burning, the adrenaline and screaming recede--now, it feels cool and he’s sweaty: one foot in the past, one foot in the present. It’s quiet now, almost too quiet, but he can’t take these calls in the hospital if he intends to speak with him.  If he intends to hold onto right now. He is right now. Now, now, now…

The darkness and burning brightness settles to father back in his consciousness, enough to breathe and joke.

“Here I thought you were too busy to be bothered with your baby brother any longer.”

The man on the line doesn’t say anything for a moment, hearing something that TC doesn’t mean to say, “Never too busy for you… You haven’t been sleeping have you?”

TC scoffed, “I’m too busy saving lives to sleep. I can sleep when I’m dead.”

“If they put you in an early grave, TC, I’m breaking out the sword and causing havoc.”

He laughed.

“And Mom and Drew will command the legions.”

“Of course.”

“How are you, bro? Really?”

TC felt the breath shuddering out of him. Sitting still now, his whole body is ready to stay there on the cold ground, curled up in a wind-breaker and scrubs that are too thin to keep the cold at bay. His insides churn painfully and he thinks that maybe it would be better to just suffer through the cold night than throw himself back into the fray of San Antonio Memorial.

“I’m…”

He knows the other doesn’t need to hear the rest of what he should be saying, but he plows on with what he’s going to say anyway.

“I’m doing pretty good. New NPR whose super handy and smokin’ hot…The administration has apparently decided to up the quality of the food available to make up for the long hours and the short-staff state we seem to exist in…”

He tells him that the smoking hot nurse is also trying to feed him regularly going as far as to bribe him with apples in practically everything, including salad. It made him think of his childhood when Regina would trick them into eating salads with the mention of apple dressing and toppings.

“Well, if you aren’t going to feed yourself, let her do it or I’ll tell Mom.”

He snorted, heaven knew he didn’t want Regina Brennan showing up at his hospital with food for him. He was still ducking coming home for dinner.

“Don’t I’m already skating on thin ice with her.”

He snorted, “You’re always skating on thin ice, somehow thinner than mine and I’m overseas.”

He laughed nodding. Listening to the latest venture his brother was engaged in and how much longer it would be before he could make a trip back to Texas. It would be a while, but if TC didn’t go visit their mother before the end of the month, he had no responsibility for what may happen.

“I’ll tell her where you live and I’ll give her your schedule.”

TC groaned, “I’ll go. I promise.”

“It’ll be good for you,” he said, calm and sure. “As for your smokin’ hot nurse, try to remember that Mom raised four gentlemen and cut out the swaggering. That’s reserved for me.”

TC snorted, “You wish.”

They talk a little longer about nothing really, but they never needed to. Being twins meant that they’d developed a secret language between each other that still worked even across the seas. TC didn’t need to tell him that he had no idea why he was crying, or sitting in the middle of the quiet parking lot against Drew’s truck, shivering from the cold even though it didn’t reach more than skin deep. He didn’t need to tell him that he hadn’t slept in days even though he’d had the time to do so. He didn’t have to tell him how scared he was of losing control at any given moment while working at San Antonio, but couldn’t stomach the thought of not as the adrenaline kept his demons at bay.

The other knew and the cadence of his voice was enough to reassure TC of everything he needed to hear to make it until the next call. It’s like a slow-acting, extended dose of quiet, just enough to turn the screaming down so TC can hear something else because Gwaine knew everything and still his voice said:

_I’m here for you._

_I love you._

_You are my brother._

_I’m proud of you._

“Love you, T,” he said. “Take care of yourself god damn it.”

“Love you too, Gwaine. Come home eventually.”

He hung up then with a deep sigh, feeling something in him shifting as another breath escaped him and his hip beeped. He scrubbed at his face, wiping the tears away and struggled to his feet against the exhaustion. He isn’t sure how much longer he could run without collapsing, but he hoped to the end of the shift.

_If you love her, you’ll leave her alone._ Toph’s words with Gwaine’s voice circled around in his head.

He’d fucked everything up with Jordan and his guilt over that had screwed his relationship (if there was one) with Landry. His inability to decide had led him through a litany of storage room encounters to dull the screaming and augment the ache. He’d just been an entity, watching his body go through the motions, say words that held no meaning for him. The warmth of another body not reaching any farther than the surface but it was enough and he made sure his partner enjoyed it.

At least he could do that right and take solace in the fact that at least his prowess in bed was unaffected by how empty he felt and how it was nothing more than physiology responding to those breathless sighs.

It had been enough until a few months ago after that almost regretful encounter with Jordan in the locker room.

He walked back to the hospital to see Jordan at the nurse’s desk asking Kenny if he’d seen him.

“…TC?”

“You need something?” TC asked, stowing his phone in his pocket.

Jordan’s eyes flickered to his pocket, to TC’s face and narrowed, “I didn’t realize you were on break.”

“You need something?”

She didn’t comment on his obvious taciturn reply, but handed him a stack of pages, “I need you to go through these Op reports and give me a full work up by the end of the year. The board is asking for it.”

TC takes the pages and flips through the report as Kenny looks between them. It’s a simple print out, but he takes note that his name isn’t on the list as an operating doctor though he knows statistically he should be as he is in surgery more often than not. They’re all from the Trauma department and from emergency rooms for the past seven years, TC started about two years prior.

“Shouldn’t this fall on Scott’s desk?” TC asked.

“Yes, but he’s on the list and thus not an impartial party.”

TC swallowed, meeting her eyes. Toph’s words floating in his head. Gwaine’s sentiments… he manages a smile, maybe just too empty to care.

“Sure thing.”

Jordan looks a little shocked but nods, thanks him and is off. Kenny gives him an odd look as he peruses the list a little more closely. Kenny leans over to read as well and he isn’t sure if TC has noticed it yet, but he has… the one thing that they all have in common. 

“They’re all TEC in Op.”

TC nodded slowly, the gravity of the list in his hands. Hundreds of lives lost on the operating table summed up on a fucking spreadsheet. He carried the pages to his office, left it on the key board and took a deep breath before closing the door behind him and walking down the hall. They’d given him the office in the most obscure part of the hospital, nowhere near the ER, per his request. It was small, almost hidden, people probably thought it was a supply cabinet that was somehow always locked. He hadn’t put his name in the stupid block beside it and left the words “Storage” faintly imprinted there from when they fitted it out as an office.

He only went in there when he really couldn’t stand the thought of being around anyone as he was the only doctor in the Trauma department that didn’t share an office. After the surgery, he’d lock himself in and try get through the report, hopefully with a stack of those tacos at his side.


	4. Silver Clouds With Grey Linings,

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Enter Drew, Rick, cuddles/snuggles and foils!
> 
> Also, our favorite dollop-head.

Drew walked in to Rick’s hospital room to see him sitting on the edge of the bed, his leg and bandaged stump setting off the edge. He stares at the two of them, hissing as he tries to move the flesh beneath his knee that isn’t there. He can still feel it, staring at the empty space feeling as if he was wiggling his toes, but seeing nothing move.

Landry told him about his… “phantom limb”…He snorted, his mind refusing to cope with something that Rick hadn’t coped with yet either.

Just another oddity of this new body…

“Hey,” Drew said closing the door behind him and coming towards him. “How are you feeling?”

Rick looked at him, eyes lost for a second, empty, before focusing on him.

Drew’s stomach turned seeing him until Rick let out a breath, “Just…one day at a time.”

Drew nodded slowly, “I’ve… got your discharge papers. At least you’ll have real food.”

Rick nodded with a smile, “Yeah… hospital junk probably isn’t helping.”

Drew smiled at him offering a bag, “I jacked it from the breakroom. Real food…”

Rick smiled back and took the bag as Drew sat beside him. He fished out a shiny green apple: granny smith his favorite and grinned at Drew.

“A real apple?”

“There’s a whole bowl of them at home,” he said. “And of course steaks and eggs and if you’re lucky you may even convince me to make pancakes.”

Rick grinned, his eyes bright as he bit into the apple a groaned, “I’ve missed these.”

Drew grinned at him and kissed his cheek, “Eat and I’ll be back to get you out of that awful hospital gown and home for a real shower.”

Rick nodded thanking him and watched Drew walk towards the door, “I love you.”

He grinned at Rick, that same way he always did with a touch of relief. Relief that he was alive, there maybe, Rick wasn’t sure…Relief that Rick appreciated the gift?

“I love you too, Rick,” Drew replied. “I’ll be back in a bit.”

Rick nodded, taking another bite of the apple with a sigh. It was good, really good, but his eyes burned with frustration and a rage that surprised him.

An apple…

He would never pick an apple again. He would never run again, maybe never walk again if he couldn’t afford a prosthetic… and then what? Live the rest of his life on a peg or something? Hobbling around on crutches, in a wheelchair-- buying shoes for only one foot?

The apple was bittersweet and sour, turning to sand in his mouth.

He picked up the phone and called his sister.

“Hey baby bro, you state-side?”

“Yeah…I just needed to hear your voice for a little bit.”

“Boyfriend trouble? Want me to punch him in the face?”

“Simmer down, fire cracker. You state-side?”

“Yeah, how long are you on leave for?”

Rick looked at his leg and the end of what used to be his right leg.

“That’s… a long story.”

*

Brooklyn turned over, a warm arm drawing her back against another body, broad shouldered, strong and comfortable as she picked up the phone and groaned.

“Hello?...Yeah, no sweetie, it’s fine. Yeah? Oh, you know how this fool is….”

Her eyes drift to his sleeping face, buried in the pillow, arm around her naked waist and breathing deeply.

“Yes he is a fool… and a half.”

Dirty blonde hair catching the light streaming through the window as he fingers traced the lines of his face. He’d gotten a bit of a tan during his trip to Egypt and was now a darker olive. He looked younger in his sleep, younger than he did when he was awake and if Brooklyn didn’t have full proof that he was his actual age, she would have sworn he was twenty something.

Six years, she thought with a strange fondness as she kissed his cheek. They’d been married for six years, yet it still felt like they were still on their honeymoon most days. Cinaed groaned, mumbling something she couldn’t quite understand as he curled up to her.

“How are you?” She asked with a deep sigh and a nod. It was about what she expected.

Grief was something that didn’t just creep up on you sometimes. It usually sunk its claws in slowly and before you knew it you were bleeding out without knowing where from or how. Halle’s grief seemed to be finally doing so and she guessed a lot of it had to do with the fact that she was now in her father’s home city. The man’s presence a constant reminder of who was no longer there.

Cinaed made a sound and shifted, near glowing green eyes flickering around before settling on her face as the owner of the hand carding through his hair. His eyes lit up as a slow grin carved its way across his face. He turned his head to look at her fully and slide closer to her.

“Good morning,” he murmured, kissing her forehead.

“Morning,” she grinned. “Halle says Hi.”

“Hi Halle, they’re not driving you crazy yet are they?”

He hears Halle laugh and say no, but she was out of break time so she’d call back later. Once the proper amount of love was exchanged, Brooklyn ended the call and set the phone on the bedside table before Cinaed pulled her closer against his bare chest and body.

“It’s hot space heater,” she said, nipping at his shoulder. “Can’t you dial it back a bit?”

He pulled back the covers, hearing her shriek at the cold air and laughed as she swatted him and tugged the blanket back over her naked form.

“Jerk!”

“You said you were hot.”

“You just wanted to see me naked.”

“That was definitely a bonus.”

She shook her head, “This is why I can’t fool with you.”

He took her hand and pressed a kiss to her knuckles where her wedding band sat, “Too late.”

“There’s always divorce.”

He grinned, pulling her close so her hands were trapped between them, “I know you want to leave me… but I refuse to let you go.”

“No.” Brooklyn said, refusing to smile.

It only made his voice get more singy and less talky, made him grin wider, made him kiss her harder.

“If I have to _beg_ and plead for your sympathy, I don’t mind ‘cause you mean that much to me.”

“You will be sleeping on the couch if you do not stop.”

He grinned, “Please? Baby, baby, please don’t leave me, girl…”

“Under the couch.”

“Ain’t too proud to beg.”

“I could put you in the guard shack.”

“Sweet darling,” he said and kissed her cheek, the bridge of her nose, her forehead, and her lips as she squirmed in his arms, trying to shove him away.

He was solid, using just enough strength to keep her close enough to kiss, but loose enough not to be threatening. She swallowed looking up at him at that tender gaze that he always held for her. It made her heart skip a beat every damn time.

“Damn you.”

He smiled and kissed her again, gently, “Hungry?”

She nodded, “So long as you’re cooking.”

“Always.”

She smiled as he kissed her again and then swung himself over her and off their bed. She turned over to watch him walk naked towards the bathroom with a smile.

At forty-six, he looked about twenty something… He ran, lifted weights, walked, generally kept himself in pique physical form, possibly out of habit and maybe a little for her because she liked to look and he liked it when she looked. They went dancing at club, salsa, tango, whenever they felt like… except belly dancing because she hadn’t been able to leave bed for three days after that particular experience.

The horny bastard.

“Bath or shower?” He asked with a sly grin. “You could probably use the soak…”

She launched a pillow at him and though he laughed he went to go run a warm bath for the both of them before returning to scoop her out of the bed and carry her into the bathroom before lowering her into the bathtub and kissing her head.

“Soak babe, I’ll make breakfast.”

“Not joining me?” She asked watching him grab for his toothbrush and brush his teeth.  “Mr. I Like Pampering You?”

He tilted his head, meeting her eyes in the mirror before spitting out the toothpaste and rinsing his mouth out. He turned around slowly and walked to kneel beside the tub, carding a hair through her hair and closing his hand in tightly until she gasped and her eyes went dark the way they always did.

“Five minutes,” he said. “That’s how long you have to tell me what last night was about.”

She swallowed, her eyes meeting his, they’re that green they turn when she calls him Master. She’s swallowed thickly.

“Understand?”

She nodded wordlessly and he released her, standing to walk out of the bathroom as she breathed slowly. He returned a few moments later with a band of leather which he set on the counter before kneeling beside bathtub, grabbed a towel, and began to wash her. Slow and patient, caring, but she heard the ticking of the clock in the back of her mind, trembling at what he could mean to do, if she’d be up to it, if it was worth it at all.

“I…” her voice seemed to lose its way as he slid his hands over her. Her body relaxed against the back of the tub and she breathed deeply. “I… I missed you.”

He looked at her meeting her gaze.

“I… just… I missed you.”

He watched her eyes, but they don’t look away or hide from his gaze. He nodded and kissed her gently, stroking her hair.

“I miss you too, when I’m away,” he said gently. “I’m sorry that I unsettled you.”

He pressed another kiss to her forehead, “I love you and if you need something just ask.”

“I can’t ask you—”

He gripped her chin and forced her to look at him, “You’re my wife. If random people can ask me for business secrets, you can ask me for anything.”

She swallowed and nodded, “Okay.”

“Now ask me,” he said.

“Could you….not go away for so long?”

He smiled, “Yes, I can.”

She met his eyes and watched them go soft and tender, losing their edge and he felt herself relax as if she’d been told that the scene was over. He stroked her hair and climbed into the tub with her to relax and hold her close, letting her breathe and take solace in his presence.

It didn’t take long for her to talk, it never did after a scene, no matter how light it was. He knew it bothered her how long he was gone, how busy he’d gotten over the last year or two, he’d thought that calling, skyping, never going too long without talking would be enough, he didn’t anticipate her taking on a new client who was as impossible as she was capable. Perhaps he would rethink this year’s business strategy to incorporate less traveling for him, more domestic work maybe.

“I’ve met the Ravensworths… is it the daughter?”

“The mother and the mother-in-law actually.”

He grimaced and kissed her head, “You can always dump them.”

“And ruin my brand? No thank you.”

He snorted, he doubted that she could ruin her brand after the job she’d done with the Trenton wedding.  People were still talking about it and it had been the reason that the Ravensworths had come to her in the first place. Petty, old money politics….

“I’m set to meet the daughter tomorrow.”

He nodded, “Well hopefully she’s the sensible one… have you met the groom?”

She snorted, grooms rarely met the wedding planner as they rarely cared. If she did meet the man it would be on the day of the wedding more than likely, but Cinaed wouldn’t know that as he was very involved with planning their wedding. Sure, she’d chosen practically everything, but it hadn’t been because he had no opinion. On the contrary, he’d had his suggestions, his tastes, but hadn’t found anything to disagree with from her personal wedding book… The one she’d been keeping since she started wedding planning… a book he’d snuck several peeks into before he’d even asked her. He’d been there for it all, making sure everything went smoothly until the day he could whisk her away on their honeymoon. 

Brooklyn only hoped that the daughter was more sensible than her parents or she may have three women to punch in the face in her dreams and she didn’t need that kind of negativity in her life.

*

“I can’t,” Jayden groaned, slumping over the desk. “I just can’t…”

It had been the kind of night people wrote home about, or had a nervous breakdown about.  Three doctors injured, four nurse’s short, medical supply shortage, alcohol-induced fights, rednecks, and car accidents. No one died that night, maybe because everyone had actually eaten something, the coffee was good, and there was no question about who was best for a night like this. There would probably be some fall out later about the way it all went down, but for now, everyone was alive.

“Is it the full moon or something?”

Molly laughed, “No it’s not.”

She looked over to see the woman packing up, “Where are you going?”

“Home.”

“You’re not on call?”

She shook her head, “I’m just a regular nurse. Hang in there, Jay.”

She groaned and shuffled away from the desk after handing off to the day staff. They were short too.

She shuffled down the hallway, seeing Halle step out of surgery and tug her scrub cap off with an exhausted sigh.

“Hey,” she greeted.

“Hey.”

Together they turned towards the break room where TC, Drew, Kenny, Paul, and Krista sat practically staring into space.

“Hey.”

“Hey.”

“Snuggles?” Krista asked leaning against Kenny’s shoulder. “I need warm fuzzies.”

Kenny yawned, “Welcome… to the night shift.”

“To the death ship,” Jayden said. Drew snorted but managed to stand, helping TC stand who was more or less asleep.

He steered him out towards the nearest closet where they put all the extra mattresses and poured him onto the nearest one, lowest to the ground. TC groaned.

“ _Drew…I’m fine._ ”

Drew shook his head and pulled the blanket over him before turning.

“I’ll be back.”

“Snuggles with Drew…” he said dreamily, turning on his side as Drew stepped outside to call Rick. He was definitely up by now, but the call went to voice mail immediately. He breathed deeply and let out a breath before pitching his voice to tell Rick’s voicemail that it had been a pretty crazy night and he’d be on call so he was going to sleep at the hospital.

“Call me if you need anything,” he said. “I love you.”

He let out a sigh he didn’t realize he was holding and walked back in to see TC still awake and making grabby hands at Drew.

“Drew snuggles.”

He shook his head, he thought he was the tactile one… TC was clearly out of his mind, but he obliged crawling on to the mattress with him and waiting until TC fell asleep, an arm thrown over him and unconscious beside him. It was always like that…TC was always careful about how they fell asleep, not wanting to trigger or startle him, just to tell him and his unconscious mind that he was there if he needed him. Perhaps it was the wildness of the night, or maybe the act that he’d been sleeping alone and fitful since Rick got back, that he falls asleep so deeply that he doesn’t wake at the sound of the door opening, or the cooing.

“ _The bromance is strong,”_ Halle whispered pulling down mattresses to lay on the floor and sliding it up against the mattress TC and Drew occupied. She and Jayden collapsed on the mattress right beside one another. Halle somehow had the mind to set a timer and turn her phone on “Ring Loudly” before shutting her eyes and falling into a deep dark slumber.

She expected a lot of things to happen, but waking up with TC’s arm around her waist, face in the crook of her neck and body curled up against hers wasn’t one of them. Drew and Jayden were gone it seemed, having been pulled in to do random things.

Her pager beeped loudly above her head, a tan hand reached out to grab it and peer at it out of one eye. She laughed.

“What?” He grunted into the crook of her neck.

“My pager is only doing its job, no need to glare at it.”

TC snorted and sat up, stretching so just a strip of skin peeked beneath his scrub shirt, apparently, the man sun bathed naked, or at least mostly unclothed.

“Where’s my pager?” TC asked and just like that it beeped loud and obnoxious and he groaned.

“Speak of the fucking devil,” he said grabbing for it. It was Jordan paging him.

“It was great cuddling with you Halle,” TC said with a grin, offering her a hand to help her onto her feet. “We should do it more often.”

“It’s snuggling,” she said. “And it’s good for your happy chemicals.”

“There’s a difference?” TC asked tilting his head. “Explain.”

“Snuggling is platonic.”

He smiled at her, whimsically, “So what would I have to do to upgrade to cuddling?”

She laughed and shook her head, “I’m serious.”

She smiled at him, “Cuddling is reserved for friends, family, and loved ones.”

He nodded, “I’ll keep that in mind… Nice cuddling with you, Halle.”

She huffed, “Snuggling!”

He turned waving over his head with a grin. They were the same thing, but if it made her feel better to draw the divide, he’d have fun at least trying to get to the other side.

What fun she would be.

*

“MERLIN!!!!”

Merlin let out a sigh, closing his file and shaking his head. Gwen came walking towards his desk with a sympathetic smile.

“How are you holding up?” Gwen asked.

Merlin smiled lightly, seeing her as she was and as she was now, not much difference than the last time with the exception of Morgana being evil, trying to kill Arthur, destroy Camelot, and enchanting her to kiss Lancelot on the eve of her marriage to Arthur and trying to kill him.

She was just as kind as she had been then.

“I’m alright.”

“Has he called?”

Merlin nodded with a grin, “We talk. He’s still a vagabond.”

“Not that we expected anything less,” Gwen said with a smile. “I’ll run interference if you need a moment. “

Merlin shook his head, it would do him good to get up and be distracted by the dollop-head rather than thinking about how far away Gwaine was right now. He walked down the hall to see Arthur flipping through pages, on the phone, and speaking calmly, from his cadence he guessed that he was speaking to Uther.

Somethings didn’t change… like how much a creep Uther was and how desperately Arthur wanted to prove himself to Uther. If only he could get a grip on a simple organization system. He stepped forward as Arthur kept flipping through pages to find the folder he was looking for. Merlin moved behind him stacking and organizing pages until he reached the bottom of the messy stack and handed the folder to him.

Arthur opened it and began to speak about the contents and stepping aside to let Merlin work his magic on the maelstrom he’d made of his desk. He hung up just as Merlin finished ordering the last stack and clipping the applicable pages together. Seriously, did Arthur just remove all the paperclips on purpose?

Arthur turned to him, eyes bright and Merlin winced. Any time he looked like that, meant that he had a new exhaustingly long assignment for Merlin. Before, it was the precursor to ending up in the stocks and or endangering their lives for Arthur’s pride.

“I hate it when you look like that,” Merlin said.

“Don’t be such a wimp, Merlin,” he said. “This is will help you stop moping around like a lovesick girl.”

“Like you when you thought Gwen was dating Lancelot?”

He huffed, blushed and glared at him, “I did not _mope_.”

“Right…” Merlin said. “And I’m a secret agent known by a three digit number. We all have our fantasies.”

Arthur cuffed him over the back of his head and just like that Merlin knew he’d won. Arthur resorted to violence when he knew he’d lost after all.

“Father is going with the plan to expand into the United States.”

“Oh?”

“And he’s giving it to me to head, starting with San Antonio.”

Merlin’s heart skipped a beat and he forced himself not to smile.

San Antonio huh?

“That means we’re moving,” he said. “Far away from London where you won’t ever have to think about that miscreant ever again.”

He seemed quite pleased with himself even as Merlin shared a look with Gwen across the room. A knowing smile on her lips as she congratulated her husband and ran interference so Merlin could start getting things together at his desk. Gwaine said he would be heading back to San Antonio in November, maybe not for long, but to check on his brother and visit family for as long as possible. He’d be in the states for a while after. Moving operations to San Antonio would take a while, but if Merlin kept focused he could make it happen in less than two months.

Enough time to see Gwaine and hash out what hadn’t been said when they last saw one another… what hadn’t been said a lifetime ago.

_I love you…_

_Always back to you…_

_My once and future…_

Gwen came to his desk to hug him tightly, “Are you going to tell him?”

“Not until I’m there… until he’s there.”

Gwen nodded, “Let me know when so I can plan to distract Arthur. I don’t want your reunion interrupted… again.”

Merlin grinned and thanked her, the last thing he needed was for Arthur to interrupt _again_ \---the dollophead. He’d been damn near shaking out of his skin with just the thought of Gwaine touching him, his mind hadn’t even gotten to the part when Gwaine would kiss, get him naked, and use that sinful mouth on him after months apart when they were pretty much acclimated to three times a day…

Gwaine had only grinned at him, taking his time to lick slow licks over his skin, teasing himself as much as he teased Merlin, loving the way Merlin flushed and got so hot so quickly… He was going to finally get Gwaine’s lips on his when Arthur had come in to Merlin’s flat and proceeded to reprimand Gwaine.

_Princess is such a mood killer…_

“Nowhere that Arthur has a key to,” Merlin said and Gwen giggled.

Arthur and Merlin had been… fre-nemies for so long that they always had keys to each other’s place. Where Merlin had the courtesy to call or at least knock before barging in, Arthur had never learned that same courtesy…So he’s pretty sure that Arthur has seen him mostly naked and then gotten made at Merlin about it.

“He’ll learn or keep getting horrified,” Gwen said with a shake of her head. “One day, he’ll learn.”

He snorted, it wasn’t likely.


	5. You Are a Brick Tied To Me That’s Dragging Me Down.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Themed lingerie... TC is a menace, but what's new about that? The cuddles v snuggles debate continues.

Kenny started the betting early with the excuse that they’re Texans and a little in-house gambling has never hurt anyone.

“Texans as in the state not the team because we’re winners.”

Halle socks him solidly in the arm for the comment. He only laughed along with the rest of the ER. She was the only native Houstonian in the entire department after all. It was fair game.

“You’re a winner, Halle. We won’t hold your heritage against you.”

“Shut up, at least we _have_ a football team.”

He shrugged, “But they suck and we have a badass basketball team and the Alamo.”

It earns him another punch to the arm and a promise that he’ll be banned from cookies for a week. That makes him shut up because while the quality of the food in the break room had never been so good, there was nothing like a batch of homemade cookies, so soft you didn’t even really need to chew them. TC oddly watches in something like complete detachment. It’s strange and he wonders if maybe he’s getting sick.

A few months ago, the idea of gambling in house or otherwise, would have goaded him to bet, lazily sure, but he would have bet just for the risk… Now, he didn’t even seem to care that Kenny had begun the betting pool, or that it was even a season to bet. He felt the itch of something beneath his skin, but he had no energy to entertain it.

Then the shift begins and there’s no time to entertain it. Alcohol poisoning, drunk driving accidents, the list went on. It was always like this at the beginning of a new season. Somehow, they make it damn near to end of September, through 9/11, ten days past 9/11 to be exact when TC gets to work early and walks in on Halle standing at her locker in Titan themed underwear. He takes note of cut of the lingerie set and finally has at least one of his suspicions confirmed: she wears matching sets.

She turns and he stifles a groan at the details in the front, silver laces seeing to hold the cups in place and the number 19 on her left shoulder.

“Is this going to turn into a thing?” She asked, not even bothering to cover up, but placing a hand on her bare hip and giving him a good look at the scar.

He was right, it was definitely a GSW, recent enough to still be so obvious but old enough to obviously be healed. The fact that she didn’t try to hide it meant that there was something about the incident that stuck in her memory, that or she was well aware that her scar did nothing to the aesthetics of her body but maybe enhance it.

Scars were sexy. Period.

He grinned at her and shrugged. She rolled her eyes and turned back to getting dressed, storing her things in the locker as he went to his own to change. Halle expects him to say something, because he always does.

 _Always_. And it’s always just short of lewd and just after teasing. It’s clever and secret like he liked to tease her only when he was around other people who wouldn’t get the joke.

But given how busy the shift gets for her and the fact that she doesn’t see him until mid-shift break out at the tailgate with a plate of food from the new food truck, she isn’t expecting it.

For one, they’re talking about football, the sort of heated talk that meant someone was a fan of one of the teams. She takes one of the empty chairs at the table as Kenny launches into a rant about how the season was looking.

“They didn’t just lose, they got _spanked_.” Kenny shook his head. “I’ve never seen the Titans fall through like that.”

TC nodded sagely and made it a point to look at Halle, “Yeah, they fumbled all night, but at least their fans are loyal.”

He cried out at the swift kick he received under the table as Halle continued to eat offering only the fact that they “probably should have stayed in Texas—all that Jack made them slow.” TC rubs at his shin but grins roguishly across the table.

When a nurse comes to ask for her to sub in for a surgery, TC sits back in his chair and grins, “Don’t fumble, Halle.”

 She stuck out her tongue like the mature adult she was and left ignoring him cackling as she walked away.  When she gets out of surgery, he’s at the nurse’s desk, handing over paperwork. His eyes light up when he sees her.

“Touchdown?”

She snorted, “With a field goal.”

“Aren’t you a Titan to the core?”

She punches him in the arm for that, he laughed, and the nurse sitting behind the desk gives Halle a look she knows all too well. Just what she needed, to be added to the broiling drama of the hospital. He sees the next set in October after the Green Bay Packers spanked the Minnesota Vikings even harder than the Bengals did the Titans weeks before.

It’s that vibrant green, a cheeky pair with cheese printed over the back and the Green Bay Packers symbol between on the left cup. She again waits for him to say something, but he holds his piece until they’re out of the locker room, until she’s let her guard down.

“Did you see that?” Drew ask, his eyes wide. “What the hell happened to Minnesota?”

“Oh yeah,” TC nodded as Halle walked by, speaking with Jayden. “They scored all night and all day too.”

Halle stopped and looked at TC who had the nerve to look innocent, “Minnesota’s going to be feeling that for a while and the Packers fans will continue to bask in their greatness and wear their colors with pride.”

The look she gives him in decidedly unamused and he wonders while taking a bite of an apple strudel how much longer he can joke about her choices of underwear before she hates him. Given that he’s seen at least half, he’s guessing, of her underwear drawer, he’s guessing she has infinite patience for his teasing. It’s nice to have this secret banter between them, jokes that they can only laugh at. Halle’s cool and obviously raised around military guys, or just guys in general, so she’ gives as good as she gets.

“I’m sure they’re not the only ones _basking_ in their own glory,” she said with a roll of her eyes.

TC bit his lip with a grin and let his eyes slide meaningfully over her, “Nope. Definitely participating in the basking.”

Her reply is to shove a folder of test results against his chest, “You’ll be basking in something alright if you keep it up.”

She leaves then and it isn’t until he’s in the break room, nearing the end of shift and trying to get through one last cup of coffee for the home stretch that he sees her again. No one is there, but there’s a ridiculous amount of tailgating food there. Football themed mini-cakes, empanadas and cookies with various teams. He grabbed for a cookie decorated with the Minnesota Vikings as the door opened and in came Halle to grab a cookie, a Texan, and a cup of tea.

“Minnesota fan are you?”

TC shook his head, “My brother was.”

“Oh yeah?”

He laughed and nodded, “Oh yeah. He had this Viking hat and everything, ugh, he used to get on our nerves when we were kids. I’d have to remind him that we’re Irish and from San Antonio and we should be should be rooting for the Celtics or the Spurs.”

“That’s basketball.”

“Exactly, I’ve always hated football.” He grinned. “He’d have cried like a baby after that game. He also hated the Packers.”

Halle shrugged, “And that’s why his team got spanked.”

He nodded as she took a seat at the smaller table with her snack and cup of coffee, “My mom hated football… with a passion… at least until I played.”

“You played football?” TC asked looking at her.

She grinned, “In my wilder years, I may have participated in lingerie football.”

He groaned, “That sounds like it’s too good to be true.”

She snorted, it had been the wild, crazy sort of feminist fun she rarely got to enjoy. She’d played for the Chicago Bliss last year as a break before starting work at Methodist in the Texas Medical Center.

 “We gave Passion a spanking in the playoffs—thirty-eight to fourteen.”

“Kinky,” he said with a laugh. “You know I’m going to have to go look this up, right?”

She laughs, because how could she expect anything different?

“Do you really need to? Don’t you see enough of my underwear to satisfy your curiosity?”

He snorted and pulled out his phone, “Only pique it… How much underwear do you own anyway?”

She didn’t dignify that with an answer before finishing her tea and pastry and heading out just before Scott came in. Something said not to leave them alone, but as she had something that needed her attention and Scott left almost immediately after entering, she didn’t turn back.

It takes TC all of ten minutes to locate a picture of her in her Chicago Bliss gear and regret it because how was he supposed to concentrate with that image in his mind?

When the Texans lose to the Cowboys 17 to 20, it’s almost too good to be true for TC. He wasn’t early or late, but just in time to see her stripping out of her street clothes and tugging on her scrubs. It’s the Texan red, white, and blue in lace and sheer overlay. The underwear are white and the bra is blue with red accents and a bold white 99 on her shoulder.

He promptly leaves before she notices him, but makes it a point to think of something to say because how could he not?

His opportunity comes in the break room, nursing another cup of coffee and snacking on what had to be the _best_ nachos he’d ever had… For heaven’s sake, he was sure they used real cheese and the most tender steak he’d ever had. They were just spicy enough and hit his stomach just the way he needed.

“I don’t know I think JJ scores better off the field than on,” TC says loud enough for her to hear as she makes a cup of tea. “Right Halle?”

She gives him a look that’s part annoyed and part amused, “Overturn. I am not amused.”

He shrugged, “At least you show your support.”

She socks him in the arm for that, steals his plate and leaves the room. TC can’t even protest because he’s too busy laughing to do so. When he asks about the New York Giants set a few days later, she isn’t surprised that he’s seen them.

“Are you a fan of Eli?” He asked.

“No, my favorite Aunt lives in New York. She sent them to me. Her Mom is from Atlanta so she’s still basking in that win.”

He nodded with a grin, “Your Aunt B right?”

She nodded ad looked at him, “Is this going to be a thing? You making sly comments about my underwear?”

“Depends… will you revoke my cuddling privileges it is?”

“Snuggling,” she corrected. “And I’ll consider it fair play.”

TC grinned, “Could I convince you to _snuggle_ with me later then?’

She gave him a look as he struggled to keep his face grinning and not laughing. It was his inflection that made her think he was teasing her as they walked down the hall heading towards their separate rounds.

“For break?” TC said.

She nodded, “I could use the nap.”

When they part, TC has an odd grin on his face earning suspicions from several members of the ER staff-except for Drew who only grins at him.

“You and Halle playing nice?”

TC nodded, “It’s oddly nice to have friends again.”

Drew grinned, “I bet.”

Halle’s already asleep when he arrives at the designated closet, curled up on her side, twists braided together over the other shoulder and clutching her beeper in one hand.  She looks adorable and somehow, sliding into the gurney with her is much easier than he first imagined. There’s nothing overtly sexual about it, but comfortable and warm, something he hadn’t felt in a while…

“Was wondering if they’d kidnapped you…”

He grinned, sliding a hand around her waist, “Keep me away from quality cuddles? Never.”

“Snuggles,” she quipped making a pleased sound and getting comfortable.

“You’re the best cuddle buddy ever,” TC said sleepily, getting drowsier from just being still, breathing in the scent of her perfume, a soft soothing earthy scent mingling with the smell of whatever she put in her hair… maybe shea butter or something like that.

“Snuggle,” she said drifting off to sleep.

 _Right,_ he thought, pulling her closer and sighing with relief. _Cuddle._


	6. Strike A Match And I’ll Burn You To The Ground,

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Homecomings, HR, bureaucracy... TC's a good friend

TC arrives at his scheduled time, half-asleep. Not because he didn’t sleep, but actually slept and woke up with barely enough time to get out the door and get there on time for his shift. Wearing jeans and tugging on a scrub shirt, he manages to slide in just as shift is about to start.

“How are things?” He asked Jayden.

She shook her head, apparently things hadn’t gotten any better. The week had been rough on all of them, but especially the nurses who were going through some sort of training or audit. He’d only been half awake, dozing off when Ragosa had started to explain that the doctors would have a little less nurse support for a while the Chief Nursing Officer met with everyone and made some changes. Jayden hadn’t seemed bothered, neither had Kenny, but Halle had been having one of the worst weeks of her career at San Antonio Memorial Hospital.

To think she hadn’t been there a full two months yet and already she was being put through the ringer.

“Should have warned her that it started early,” TC told Jayden conspiratorially.

Jayden shook her head, “She’s been assigned a week long shift of back to back doubles.”

He winced, he’d had weeks like that, still did, but given that there were so few NPRs and even fewer surgeon’s assistants, he wasn’t surprised that she was in high demand. Hell, ER loved her as it was like having another doctor around and other wards appreciated having another nurse that was not only willing, but able to help them when they needed it.

“Where is she?”

“Probably showering, she should be getting out soon.”

He nodded and headed towards the locker room only to hear meditative breathing and the sound of clothes over skin. As per usual, she was distracted, digging through her bag angrily. Wearing only her scrub top, scrunched up around her waist to reveal lacy red underwear full of apple shaped prints. They were hi-cut, cheeky underwear and without meaning to, or maybe meaning to, his hand drew back and landed squarely on her ass.

She yelped and spun around to glare at him as he’s rather surprised himself. He thought that reflex had died before he’d gone to John Hopkins, with his years on the track team surrounded by asses that almost begged to be smacked. She looked tired, but the furry and frustration seemed to ease whatever had her pissed off moments before…and there was something else, just a flicker of heat behind her fury.

“TC,” she growled at him.

He bit his lip and looked at the hand that had just been on her ass with a wistful fondness, “Apples: how could I resist?”

She shut her locker, grabbed her scrubs, slid them on, before shoving her feet into her shoes. TC takes a seat beside her.

“You alright?” TC asked softly.

“Be better if you didn’t smack my ass.”

He grinned, “Couldn’t help it, it’s just so round and…”

She stood then and glared him, her brown eyes bright with fury.

“Apple-y,” he said, biting back a grin. “I didn’t even have to request them.”

“I’m revoking your muffin privileges.”

Better that than her exploding on one of the nurses—even if they did deserve it. He grinned at her and didn’t tell her that he had a gift for her, no. That could wait until she really needed to cool off and focus on harmless fury rather than systematic injustice. She’d kindly told him the last time he’d found a favorite pair in her underwear collection that she “did not take underwear requests”. He figured adding one set to her collection would be as close as he got to getting a request fulfilled….

Figuring out how to get her in it was something different.

The opportunity came around midnight after Halle got out of surgery, visited with the family in place of the operating doctor and was caught coming from the ER waiting room by a member of HR who had been tasked with promoting the hospital and insuring policy compliance. She was the new girl, starting earlier that week after someone else quit and trying to make her mark at making San Antonio Memorial have a much more positive atmosphere…simply by telling people to be positive.

“If you aren’t happy here, you can always go to a different hospital.” She said. “San Antonio Memorial only needs staff who are willing, able, and happy to do their duty as medical professionals. Also, as a nurse, you aren’t supposed to be conversing with patients’ families about the status of a patient. Furthermore,…”

Halle listened to her patiently, cracked a cold smile and in no uncertain terms told her that she if she wanted a happier staff, she’d let them do their jobs and not bother them with something a petty as a simple bending of the rules. Yes, she was a nurse. But she was a nurse practioner and a surgeon’s assistant too, but the new HR girl didn’t know that, only considering the “rules” and her maroon scrubs.

There had no time to consider the rules when the operating doctor, for all intents and purposes mentally and physically checked out, at a crucial part of the surgery. They’d had to remove the scalpel from his hands and she had to pull Krista in to cover for the doctor who sat shaking in the corner of the hospital room. She’d told Krista exactly what to do, how to do it, and gave her as much support as she could until the procedure was complete and they could sew the man up again.

And that had happened because Ragosa and the Hospital Trustees, rather than hiring another doctor or working to even out the hours across all the doctors, had had the man on double shifts for the past two weeks when he should have been on bereavement leave after the death of his fiance in a car crash.

A man had almost lost his life on the table because they were understaffed and overworked. But Penny Pencil-Pusher, in her black oxfords and suit wouldn’t ever know that, wouldn’t see that… wouldn’t listen either.

She wouldn’t be there at the nurse’s station answering the loved ones of patients who hadn’t heard anything in hours and were searching every doctor that walked near the lobby for hope. Listening for their loved one to be called and deal with the anxiety every time they weren’t. She didn’t have to listen to them, to see the tears.

That was everyone on the front line’s burden to bear.

So yes, it was a slight breech in protocol in her book. Yes, she understood that the woman had a job to do, but hearing her speak… There was no humanity there, no compassion, just crunching numbers and excel sheets.

“I only told them that the surgery was over, the patient was stable, sedated, back in his room, open for visitation, and as soon as the doctor was able he would speak with them to address their concerns,” Halle said calmly. “All well within my job as an NPR and a sugeon’s assistant.”

“Well that’s still something the doctor should have communicated—”

“His doctor is unconscious right now and unless you want to be the one to explain why the operating physician is so depressed and so exhausted that he nearly ruptured a major artery on the way towards unconsciousness... I believe I did the right thing.”

Her jaw dropped, “That should be reported. You don’t have the authority to take matters into your own hands like that. Look forward to a meeting with the CNO and the head of your department about procedures.”

Halle closed her eyes, a bandolier of angry words ready, aimed, and set to break this woman’s face pushing at her lip, but she breathed, “I have been on back to back shifts all week and have neither the time nor the patience to entertain you any longer. If you’ll excuse me, I have work to do.”

Her jaw dropped as Halle moved to walk past her, “I could write you up for insubordination.”

“ _Do it_ ,” Halle told her, turning her head over her shoulder. “ _Make my week._ And while you’re at it, get Dr. Stephens on a bereavement and health leave as soon as possible. He passed out from shock and is in no physical or mental state to be working.”

Before the woman could say anything else, TC appeared. He’d been waiting for a moment to present itself to diffuse the situation and set him up for a really fantastic prank: two birds one stone. He stepped to stand in front of Halle, cutting her off every time she tried to walk around him.

“Move, TC.”

“No,” he said simply, gleefully even. “I think you need to cool off.”

He looked back to Drew and Jayden who were coming down the hallway, “You think Halle needs to cool off?”

Drew’s eyes widened, glancing between TC and Halle who looked about at the end of her rope before nodding. Cooling off was definitely in order. Jayden nodded as well. The Martin rage was starting to show itself and no one wanted to deal with that—The Methodist Hospital System was still licking its wounds from a run in with that rage and San Antonio didn’t have the fiscal power to sustain a run in, she knew that much.

“TC, I mean it. I’m in no mood—”

She shrieked as TC pulled her forward, hauled her over his shoulder and began to march past the HR rep and into the elevator as she kicked and squirmed, but TC had hauled many people on his shoulder over the years. A firm grip on her waist, another on her legs and she was easy to carry no matter how much she kicked and threatened to knock his lights out.

“TC put me down!”

He smacked her ass solidly, earning a shriek of indignation, “Hush now, I’m doing you a favor. You’re a little tea kettle that’s a bit too hot.”

“A tea kettle?!”’

She beat at his back as he carried her through the back doors towards the tailgate.

He nodded, “A very curvaceous tea kettle.”

Topher was there with Jordan, Kenny and a few other members of the night shift, the HR rep, Drew and Jayden had followed him as he shifted her into his arms bridal style with her kicking a beating at his chest.

“TC—“

When he released her, she shrieked at the cold water she was submerged in and sputtered, looking up at TC who held her phone and pager in his hands. Her scrubs clung to her enough to see the outline of her bra, but no details as she looked up at TC.

“Isn’t that better?”

She stood something like a dark laugh coming from her chest before lunging at him and punching him square in the chest. It wasn’t nearly as hard as it could have been which meant that yes… it had done something to make her calm down. Maybe it was shock, embarrassment, he didn’t know. She yanked his towel from the line nearby, wrapped herself in it, glared at him and shuffled back into the building.

Drew snorted, “She’s going to murder you later.”

TC grinned, probably not as the HR Rep went straight into reprimanding TC, adding it to the list of his infractions, but completely forgetting whatever punishment she’d been about to dole out against Halle. Good. TC was already trouble, Halle didn’t need that to go on her hospital record. The hospital needed her, far more than he needed to keep his record clean. After all, he’d been good, suspiciously good in Ragosa, Scott and Jordan’s eyes for the last few months, he was about due for an infraction.

When the woman was done, Kenny pat him on the back and told him that he was awesome.

He shrugged, “Eh, just causing trouble.”

Jayden gave him a hug and a bag of clothing for Halle. He walked into the locker room to hear her sliding out of her soaking wet clothes and opened his locker to pull out his gift for her. It was partially supposed to be funny, but when he’d gone into the shop he’d been drawn to it and the idea of seeing her in it. So, he switched out the underwear that Jayden had placed at the bottom of the bag with the set he’d bought for her and grinned realizing that his estimation of her size was spot on and walked towards the stall she’s in.

“Halle?”

“No,” she huffed, wringing out her scrub shirt and hanging it on the door. “You are so banned from hugs for at least a week.”

He snorted and set the bag down before kicking it under the door, “I understand. Jay said to give these to you.”

“Still not forgiven.”

“I didn’t ask to be, not yet anyway,” he said with a grin and headed out of the locker room just as Jayden came in.

He’d left the set of underwear Jayden provided on the bench beside their lockers and whistled his way down the hallway.

“Hal’? You alright? They’re probably a bit tight aren’t they? I know they’re not your usuals…”

Halle opened the stall door, still drying off, but wearing a set of lingerie that Jayden definitely didn’t put in the bag.

“No, they fit fine, why?”

Jayden glanced at the neatly folded bra and panties on the bench. Halle followed her gaze and her jaw dropped.

“That sneaky…”

Jayden crossed her arms taking a look at Halle. It was honestly a nice set. The man had good taste. All lace, full coverage with a deep plunge that looked as though it was made to be functional as well as sexy. The neon pink color really made an impression against Halle’s dark skin. The matching underwear were all lace as well, sheer, hi-cut and cheeky.

“Want to explain to me how the Tennant knows your bra and underwear size?”

She growled and began to get dressed in the scrubs and extra set of tennis shoes she had shoved in her locker and tried to not read into it. Yes, it was a nice set, but TC wasn’t interested in anything more than teasing her until the ends of the earth and harmless sexual banter.

“He was probably testing how good his eyes were…Jerk.”

“It’s a nice set, wonder where he bought it… I mean… that’s pretty nice quality for something he was just giving you as a gag gift.”

Halle made a sound that was part annoyed and frustrated because it was a really nice set from a shop she’d heard about here in San Antonio and had been meaning to visit for a while. She tells Jayden that she and TC have this completely unplanned thing where he manages to see her changing before and after shift almost every time they’re on the same shift. It’s been going on since she started at the hospital.

Jayden gives her a plastic bag to put her wet underwear in and directs her to the laundry room for the standard issue scrub basket. From the locker room, she heads straight for the nurse’s station only to see that her paperwork has been switched for significantly more difficult patients and doctors to work with. Jayden winced.

“Yeah, they do that.”

Halle flips the pages open, grabs a pad of sticky notes and starts writing notes. She’d been prepared for her other patients, these were more or less new to her and the fact that they expected her to go in half-cocked annoyed the shit out of her.

“They fit well, I assume.”

She looked up to TC leaning against the counter like the proper vagabond he was.

“Can’t wait to see them.”

“In. Your. Dreams.”

He grinned, “You have no idea what I dream about.”

No, but she had an idea and was about ninety-five percent certain that it wasn’t about her in her underwear, or underwear he’d bought for her. She turns to walk away, but somehow TC is a sneaky ninja who appears just when she’s reaching a boiling point. She’s standing at the nurse’s desk arguing with another nurse about a patient’s charts. The woman doesn’t seem to understand that the issue at hand needs a very different test than the one she’s scheduled him for.

“Take it up with his doctor.”

“His doctor is out of town and won’t pick up the phone.”

Scott had been sent away to a medical conference in order to try and get the hospital more funding. As head of Trauma it was expected, but ill timed. The medical conference that a lot of the really big donors went to wouldn’t be until the spring and Scott didn’t have the sort of personality to sell the hospital well, let alone the Trauma department.

“Well then the test stays and if it changes, he’ll just get that one too.”

“You’re talking about double billing the patient for something that was our error.”

She shrugged and before Halle could do more than continue the note she was making, before she’d even mention the fact that Halle outranked her as an NPR and even more so as a surgeon’s assistant and she would do well to listen, TC’s voice came drifting behind her. She felt the heat of him behind her, passing by, barely avoiding grazing her, but close enough that she felt him.

“Am I really not going to get to see it?”

She broke the pen in half and glared after him as he continued to waltz his way towards the ER to check on patients. She has the sense not to yell after him, but then the phone rings and it’s Scott confirming that she’s right and to switch the test loud enough and clear enough for the attending nurse to hear.

The woman sucks on her teeth, glares at Halle but proceeds to make the change.

“Thanks for calling me back, Scott.”

But as soon as she hangs up, it’s Jordan in her face talking about taking other people’s patients. An assault to which Halle responds with her EMT voice: her paperwork has been switched to the binder in her hands and she just completed her rounds, contacted Scott about one of his patients, and is due for another set of rounds—so make her point quick.

“What do you mean your patients got switched?”

Halle tilted her head, stood her binder up and activated the screen of her tablet. The binder and tablet system that Jordan brought over from the Day Shift. It would have worked fine if everyone kept to their own binders, but nurses are petty and it didn’t take long for Halle to realize that the nurses of the night shift really didn’t like her. She guessed it was because she fit in well with the army crowd. She got the jokes, she gave as good as she got. It was like being around her own family, most of which had had some stint in the military.

“I was supposed to be working out of a different binder, but they switched my name to this one,” Halle said. “And I have no way of knowing where the binder I’m supposed to have, let alone the queue I’m supposed to have, is, so rather than chose one and maybe neglect a patient, I’ve been doing both lists.”

Jordan’s jaw dropped, “Both?”

“We don’t have the staff or time to fight about petty actions. I’m qualified and trained to handle any patient I’m assigned.”

Jordan looked at her tablet in confusion, it had the original assignments not the switched ones and sure enough Halle had notes in two sets of patient documents, some that conflicted with the notes of prior nurses, some that mirrored.

“They didn’t change it in my view.”

Halle closed the binder and switched screens on the tablet rather than giving her an explanation of petty nurse games. Her tablet assignments didn’t match up with her binder assignments, so she’s managed to do both sets with little to no preparation. Sure, that may have meant patients getting seen twice, but better over-coverage than under.

Rather than apologize, Jordan asked her about the discrepancies between Halle’s notes and the other’s notes. Halle rattled through her explanations, pointing to some of the irregularities of the testing done, subtle shifts in the patient with a calmness that astounded Jordan as she passed her tablet to one of the nurses and received a charged one back.

“Thanks ladies,” Halle looked to Jordan who was staring at her in confusion. “Anything else, Dr. Alexander?”

“Uh… No, I think that’s about it.”

She nodded and headed off to do her next set of rounds, taking quick strides through the hospital, checking her slapdash list of patients to see and making her way through the hospital. It would be the last set before the quiet sleep hours of the night when she’d be in the ER primarily doing triage and trying to ignore the fact that Jordan hadn’t even apologized for the unwarranted verbal attack.

Drew saw her then, calming an incredibly irate man with a smile and soothing voice… and TC practically skipping out of surgery. He’d been in such a good mood all day, through Ragosa, Jordan, and the HR rep who seemed to be on his case. It seemed as though nothing would ruin it and Drew had a sneaking suspicion that it was because Halle was delightfully responsive to his teasing.

“You better watch out before she really socks you,” Drew warned as TC whistled, signing some papers and handing them back to the awaiting nurse.

“Even if she did, I’d grin,” TC told him. “I’m in such a good mood, I can’t ever begin to explain.”

“I’ve noticed.”

His eyes lit up as Halle came back to explain that the situation had been diffused.

“Missing his dose of chill,” Halle explained. “Spike in adrenaline all a nasty cocktail.”

Drew nodded, “Should have just knocked him out.”

“Now, now,” Halle said. “That would be a grave misuse of power.”

Drew snorted, the dude was almost as big as he was, which meant bigger than Halle. I think the Gods of Fairness would have been okay with her knocking him out needle or otherwise.

“Is there enough support for you?” TC asked with a grin.

Halle refused to smile at him no matter how it was pressing at her lips. She closed the binder and walked past him.

“I am not humoring you.”

He trailed after her as Drew shook his head. TC was apparently on a very different destructive path and he wasn’t sure if that was necessarily better or just different.

“I was told by the clerk that it was the softest lace they had.”

“TC, I swear.”

“Thought about getting the satin set instead, but I figured those would be far too distracting.”

“No hugs, no—”

“That and I’ve never seen you in satin. I was also a little skeptical if just lace would be enough support—”

“No apples,” she grit out, her cheeks heating because she was only human and TC was laying it on thick.

She should have changed, threw the set in his face as soon as she’d done so, but they were comfortable, there was no time, and she was pretty sure that putting them on, taking them off, and throwing them at him would have made the situation worse.

The vagabond.

“She said the underwear ran a little extra cheeky. Would you say 50-60% more cheek or more? Less?”

“Pears, TC. There will be nothing, but pears if you don’t shut up.”

He pouted and hurried ahead of her, “You wouldn’t do that to me, would you? They’re such high quality.”

“Your snuggle buddy pass has been revoked,” she told him.

“But Halle,” he whined playfully.  “That’s as close as I’ll get to heaven.”

“Maybe if you lived a little more wholesomely you wouldn’t be condemned.”

He shook his head, “Can’t. I’m a vagabond to the core. No reformation for me, cuddles or not.”

“ _Snuggle,”_ she corrected, “Get that look out of your eyes.”

“How can I?” He asked letting his eyes drift down her and then back up in a slow heated drag. “Knowing what you’re wearing underneath that…”

It’s different, decidedly different than any other time he’s done the elevator eyes. There’s an awareness, a heat and possession that wasn’t there before. What an odd turn and she wonders if TC is aware of it too. She would almost goes as far as to say that he was bringing out the Smoulder that Flynn wished he’d had.

“You see here, TC, I—”

“Halle the Body!”

She froze, blinking as if someone had frozen her brain and TC’s eyebrow drifted up in interest before he turned around to see a group of men, four of them there, huge towering guys. Three in fatigues, one in civilian clothes wearing a shiny pair of dog tags.

Grunts, older than TC, so definitely older than Halle. They were all about the same tone of bronzed sand, maybe a little darker, but there was something about their features….in the nose maybe that made him think they were related to one another… and related to Halle.

 _Brothers…_ Well that explained a whole lot… all four of them in the military? That explained a whole lot more.

“I don’t know about that, Nate,” one of them said, the one in civilian clothing. “She looking a little toned a la Serena now.”

“Still look she stepped straight out of a video though.”

TC stepped aside so Halle could see them and stare unable to fathom how the four of them were there. She hadn’t seen them in _years_ between their deployments and her escapades around the world…but there they were. The only ones still left in the service besides Camden, just as large as the last time she’d seen them, maybe a little older.

“We get a hug or not?”

TC forgotten, she took quick steps, dropping her binder and embracing the first one she could reach. Nathan in his fatigues laughed, squeezing her tightly.

“You got a bit taller, munchkin,” he said. “Welcome back.”

She laughed a bit, shouldn’t she be saying that to him? But then she was getting passed off to her other three brothers who squeezed her, teased her a bit and had equally ignorant things to say.

“You look just like your Mama.”

“Sound just like her too.”                                                                                           

“Bet you starting to act like her too,” Timothy said. “Shooting niggas down left and right.”

Her eyes burn as she laughs into the curve of Benjamin’s shoulder, the eldest of the four in his greyed t-shirt.

“How long have you been back? How long are you on leave for?”

“Indefinitely,” Benjamin said proudly. “Time I spend some real time with my baby girl. These fools will be here for a few weeks.”

Halle laughed and squeezed him tighter, murmuring a welcome home into the curve of his shoulder.

“You dating the white guy?”

She snorted and pulled back regarding him with a raised eyebrow, “What?”

“Don’t act like you didn’t hear me, just like your Mama… You dating the white boy?”

“No, I’m not dating anyone,” she said pulling back to regard the four of them with a hand on her hip. “Not that it’s any of your business.”

David let out a low breath, “There it is. The Martin in her.”

She rolled her eyes and bent down to pick up her clipboard.

“What are you all doing here? All in my business.”

“We’re your older brothers,” Timothy Jr. said with a grin. “We got to have something to report back to Dad ‘cause we know you haven’t told him.”

“Told him what?”

“That you’re dating!”

Halle shook her head, “I’m not dating anyone, fool.”

“Looked like you were. Nate?”

“Yep.”

“D’?”

“Yep.”

“Stop cosigning, Peanut Gallery,” Halle said shaking her head earning a laugh from them. “Not dating and I’m on duty. I’ll catch you all later?”

“Yeah, we’re staying at Dad’s.”

Of course they were. She gave them all one last hug before walking on her way. They have other people to go bother in the hospital and she had patients to go see.

When she sees TC again, it’s in the locker room a little after everyone has headed out. Jayden is waiting for her at the nurse’s station. TC manages to come in after she’s changed into a sweater dress in bright red and brown knee high boots. There was a brown and gold belt around her waist and a matching brown scarf and gold earrings clipped to her ears. When she’s dressed and packing her bag to go, writing a note for herself on the mirror she’s attached to door of her locker, he walks over, straddles the bench and takes a deep breath.

“Before I apologize.”

She made a non-committed sound, still scribbling on her mirror. She only glances at him, taking in the fact that he isn’t dressed to leave.

“Because you know I like my apology to count for a lot.”

“Right…”She said loosening the braid that held her twists out of her face and beginning to corral her hair into a high bun with a string of red and gold. She looked like fall incarnate.

“May I say—”

“TC,” she said, pulling out a notebook and beginning to scribble hurried lines down the small page. He wondered what she was writing about, or doing, but didn’t ask.

She fixed him with a look that made him grin. “Pears, I swear.”

“Hear me out first,” he said as she continued her maddened scribbling. He bet she had perfect handwriting though because that’s just the way she was: clear, no room for misinterpretation—honest. “Then get angry?”

She shook her head tossing the plastic bag into her tote and reaching to pump lotion into her hand and rub. Why she was humoring him, she didn’t know. Maybe because it was all locker room fun and it had been damn near too long since she’d had any male attention that wasn’t _hey shorty, let me holla at you for a second,_ or _damn you got a fat ass._  

 _That your mama in the car?_ She shuddered at the thought. A woman had needs and a little external validation never hurt anyone when it was validation and not willfully ignorant. While the doctor’s at her old hospitals had a very different wording, it all boiled down to the same thing.

_Hey sexy, when you have a minute let’s talk, you have a nice figure…._

“That ass… was made to model underwear.”

She froze, her jaw dropped looking at him looking at her ass.

“Honestly, when you get sick of hospital politics, I know a few people and you could make a _killing._ ”

“You got the hookup do you?”

He nodded, “Oh yeah.”

“Is that what all the CK is from?”

He grinned, “You’ve been peeking at my underwear have you?”

She loses control and gives him the smile he’s been gunning for all day. A part of him throws his hands up in the air, punches the air and cheers all at once. The rest of him just watches her. She finished the note she was writing and placed it in her bag. There’s a flash of red that catches his eye as she turns back to close her locker.

“You’re ridiculous.”

TC grinned, “You don’t have to thank me.”

She stifles a laugh as he continues to examine the flash of red and orange he sees and waits until she’s digging through her bag to have a revelation that the bra that matched the apple print underwear is actually more a bustier top. The front is shaped like a gigantic apple with barely any stem and a green leaf with the designer’s insignia between the cups. The fabric is the pattern of a gala apple.

“Is your bra… an apple?”

Halle’s eye drop to her bag and snatch it closed but it’s too late, he’s already seen it, the damage is done and she is never going to live this down. Because yes, she has underwear that are fruit themed and today, against her better judgement because she knew that this was going to happen, she’d worn the apple set. It hadn’t been her fault, she’d been rushed and had hurried up through her shower and getting dressed and this set just happened to be at the top of the stack.

_Maybe if I don’t say anything…_

But their eyes meet and Halle can see the utter glee in his eyes _._

“Did I tell you that galas were my favorite?”

_Oh god…_

She shakes her head, grabs her tote and purse before turning to leave. She isn’t expecting TC’s hand to come down on her ass hard and meaningful and with her arms full and in heels she’s not fast enough to catch him before he scurries out the locker room door cackling.

“Pears for a month!” She yells after him, but he only laughs.

Her cheeks are hot when she reaches the front desk and Jayden greets her.

“Do I want to know why TC looks positively gleeful?”

“Because he’s a vagabond.”

Jayden laughed, linking arms with her, waving over her head and heading out of the hospital. TC watched them go with a smirk. While he had a triple shift ahead of him, he felt better than he had in a while.

“You going to be okay?” Drew asked, shrugging into his jacket.

“I’ll be fine, go on and say hi to Rick for me.”

Drew nodded, slung his bag over his shoulder and headed out. The rest of the night shift filed out shortly after as TC headed back into the fray.


	7. So We Can Take The World Back From The Heart Attacked

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Gossip, nurses, Drew's birthday , wise words from a married woman, and... more TC antics. There's a little history and a little trauma in there too.

Jayden takes the bus to work today. Halle had offered her a ride but as the woman had barely gotten enough sleep, Jayden declined to the bitter end. Halle wouldn’t have let it go otherwise. They lived on separate sides of the city and Halle didn’t need the added stress of getting up earlier than she wanted to. She was so worrisome sometimes. When she arrives, she changes, and heads into the Nurse’s break room for something to eat and a cup of coffee.

They don’t acknowledge her but continue on through their conversation and it doesn’t take long to figure out that they’re talking about Halle.

“She corrected you in front of a doctor?”

“Yeah, I mean who does she think she is?”

“Well was she right?”

“Does it matter?”

 _Yes,_ Jayden thought pouring herself a cup of coffee.

“Jayden? What do you think?”

Jayden turned around to regard the table. She’d been playing nice, letting the other nurses think whatever they chose to about her, mostly because she didn’t need the drama. As her mother said, there was no shame in letting people think what they needed to so you could life your life smoothly.

“About what?”

“Nurse Martin,” one of them said. Jayden couldn’t remember her name.

“She’s brilliant.”

The woman rolled her eyes, “I meant her personally.”

“I’ve known her since we were kids,” she said honestly. “I’m not sure if I’m the best to answer your questions.”

“Doesn’t she drive you crazy? She always has to be right.”

Jayden’s lips twitched into a smile. How many times had she heard that about Halle from people who were absolutely wrong. Jayden thought once that maybe Halle needed to be right all the time. It had taken a while to figure it out, to watch her…

It wasn’t that she had to be right… it was that she usually was and when she wasn’t she had no problem saying “I don’t know”, “I’m not sure”, “Let me get back to you on that.” Watching Halle in high school had only told her that the woman had computer for a brain rather than an ego the size of Texas.

“Did she correct you?”

“Yes! Like I’m some new trainee!”

“Were you wrong?”

“Does it matter? It wasn’t her place.”

Jayden tilted her head, “Were you wrong?”

The woman made a noise, “I may have overlooked some things…”

Jayden rolled her eyes, “If you have a problem with Halle, take it up with her. She’s honestly a very approachable person.”

“Easy you mean,” another woman said with a snort, sipping her coffee. “I wouldn’t be surprised if she was banging the whole ER. You should see her with them, it’s disgusting. Acting like she’s part of their group.”

“She is in the _Trauma Department._ ”’

The woman rolled her eyes, “Not that, Jayden. Don’t be blind because she’s friends with you. You’ve seen the way she talks to Dr. Callahan and everyone else.”

And there was the issue…

Another nurse agreed and brought up the kiddie pool incident and several other playful moments between TC and Halle that sounded like petty jealousy to Jayden.  If she were a weaker woman, she may have agreed with them because Halle had the kind of magnetism that made making friends easy, the sort of figure that drove men to distraction, and the personality that made it easy for her to get along with people. It made it hard to own up to your own insecurities when you had someone like Halle around. She didn’t try and change people, but she was very much interested in helping people get to where they wanted to go and didn’t seem to fully appreciate exactly how appealing she was inside and out. It had pissed Jayden off for years, how easy it was for her to talk to guys, to get their attention, to be accepted…

Then she learned why Halle was the way she was and it had been a moment of burning shame for her.

“It may help you to know that all of the men in her family have been in the military, so her interacting with the military men here isn’t all that surprising.”

The woman’s voice dies in her throat, “I see.”

“She also has eight brothers.”

Their eyes widened, “Oh…”

“If you have an issue with her,” Jayden said, heading towards the door. “Take it up with her, otherwise you’re just gossiping.”

Their jaws drop and Jayden knows that it’s probably the most she’s ever said to them that was anywhere near criticism. When she leaves, she knows that they’ll add her to the gossip pool and almost groans at the headache ahead. Then she sees Halle walking as if she’d come straight off a domination magazine in black platform, high heeled boots, a leather blazer, a body contouring skirt that fell just below the knees and a black button up top that fit just tight enough to be sexy but not obscene. Leather strips cinched the waist of the blouse adding an optical boost to her hourglass figure. She’s on the phone, carrying her tote and purse and looks somewhere in between amused and gleeful. She was definitely on the phone with Brooklyn.

She waves at Jayden and walks towards he as she hangs up.

“Auntie B says Hello and she expects to take you out for your birthday, so schedule a half shift that day, missy.”

Jayden laughed, “Sure… what are you wearing?”

“Oh… just came from helping Heather out. She’s got some new stuff she wants to add to her websites.”

Jayden nodded and wondered how exactly Halle had the time or energy to help Heather out before her shift started.

“Putting that ass to work are you?”

“I am an investor,” she grinned.

“It’s not my birthday,” TC’s voice came from down the hallway as the nurse’s break room door opened and the nurses who’d been speaking to Jayden began to file out for the beginning of shift.

They gawked at Halle’s clothing as she laughed at TC who came closer.

“Unless you own a clothing website, this isn’t for you. And you still haven’t told me when your birthday is.”

“I could if you’re going to wear it,” TC said with a groan, taking her hand and drawing her forward to get a better look. “Tell me you’re going to wear that all shift.”

“In your dreams,” she said. “No idea how many steps I take in one shift, but I know that it won’t be happening in these.”

TC tutted, “That’s a shame. Heather?”

She nodded, “If you’re good, maybe I’ll give you the website.”

TC let out a gasp, “Are you saying I’m not good?”

“Yes.”

He winced, “Ouch Halle, that hurt me.”

She placed a finger in the center of his scrub-covered chest and pushed lightly until he was out of the way.

“Good.”

She walked on down the hallway ignoring TC’s hissing before going into the locker room. Jayden watched the nurse’s faces go from shocked to utterly hateful in about three seconds before TC grinned at them and continued on down the hall towards the front of the ER.

“Care to explain that?” One of them said.

Jayden rolled her eyes, “They flirt--it’s a thing.”

“You sure she’s not a part time hooker?”

“Yes, she’s just a part time model for a friend who needs help.”

They snorted and grumbled about nothing worth modeling, but then Halle was back in her scrubs and tennis shoes. Her scrub cap in her pocket, her hair tied up and ready to take on the shift.

TC manages not to tease her for most of the shift and ultimately weasels the name of the website from her, but not after she asks him if he’s secretly a freak to which TC kindly replied:

“It’s no secret, angel. I just can’t wear leather to work.”

She swats his arm for it, but her smile undermines the bite behind it. The site is called Fantasy Fashions and largely caters to a more fetishized, leather and whip look. It’s sister site, Body Talk, was more for business wear and the like. Halle helped on both sides. While completely unsafe for work, TC doesn’t care and bookmarks Fantasy Fashions onto his home page, crawls into the cot they tend to share, naps, and continues about his shift. It’s when he’s missing for exactly fifteen minutes two hours later that things start getting weird.

“Have you seen TC?” Jordan asked Drew upon seeing him. “He’s not in any of the ORs and I need to check and see how he’s doing on those write ups.”

Drew had in fact seen TC in an obscure hallway leading towards a supply closet with his phone so close to his face it was obvious that he was either hiding something or reading very fine print.

“Nope, haven’t seen him. You sure he’s not in the break room?”

Jordan shook her head and carried on to ask Landry and anyone else she sees about TC’s whereabouts. She’s about to ask Halle, her last resort, coming out of surgery when TC appears, grinning like a Cheshire cat and swaggering down the hall.

“I’ve been looking for you,” Jordan said seeing him.

“I was on break, what’s up?”

Halle tilts her head, giving TC a silent, questioning look. When he grins wider and wiggles his eyebrows, she knows that has something to do with Heather’s website. She wonders exactly how far into the website he’d gotten? Past the story excerpts maybe? In ten minutes--probably. TC read incredibly fast, something practiced from medical school she was sure.

Halle leaves the two of them to their conversation before making her report to the nurse’s station and updating the records accordingly.

“She just thinks she’s so damn smart,” Halle heard like a flashback to her childhood. “We all know they just like her because she looks like a video girl.”

_You’ve got the kind of body, dudes want to take home at night, but not keep for life._

“Obviously, Dr. Callahan will do her and then move on to something more respectable, just like all the others. Someone he can actually be seen outside with.”

_You’re nice Halle, just not really take-home-to-mom material. Dad, would kill me._

“Bet she was a video girl to pay for school.”

_How about we skip the “I’m paying for school” and you just spread those legs like you’re used to._

“Or a hooker.”

There was a laugh and it takes so much for Halle to keep her mouth shut to breathe past the nausea of the past roiling in her gut. Two boyfriends and a sleazy want-to-be baller’s words, words that she thought she’d moved past echoing in her mind. She didn’t realize that their words still bothered her so much, she thought she’d moved past it. She was worthy to have what she wanted, she worked to pay for what she wanted. She’d wanted a relationship that wasn’t just for her body—she’d dumped him. She’d wanted a partner who was proud to have her at his side—she’d dumped him. She worked as an EMT and served drinks at a club to pay her way through undergrad—she’d punched the shit out of him and called the police when he’d attacked her in the alley behind the bar.

Her hand tightened, they didn’t know anything about her. They didn’t know anything--

Nurse Molly Ramos placed a hand on her shoulder, breaking her from her downward spiral, and gave her a smile. The words that come after make her heart quake.

“There’s a difference between playing nice and letting them walkover you,” she said. “Don’t be afraid to put them in their place. Sometimes you have to go for the jugular.”

She smiled weakly and barks out a laugh and nods, closing her eyes and excusing herself to step away to take a break for a second. It’s almost too much and it’s all bubbling up too fast to get a hold of, she maintains her normal smile, her poker face, and walks quickly to the supply closet she and TC usually share.  She opens the door and closes it behind her, pressing her back to the door and sliding down to the floor as the words echo through her mind.

Evelyn Martin’s words floating through her mind.

_Put that bitch in her place, Halle. You’re a Martin._

_You’re a fucking tiger, Halle. Don’t let them make you forget it._

_Haters are going to hate, Halle. It’s their job. If you’ve got three, you need to figure out how to get to twenty by the end of the year—Katt Williams._

_Don’t let them pimp you off your square. They wouldn’t know what to do with it._

She managed to stifle the sob she wants to let out, but the tears come and her face heats as she buries her face in the folds of her arms on top of her knees and rocks.

Gunshots ricochet and she presses her hands to the wound while on the phone, talking to Evelyn, talking to the dispatcher.

The wound is sterile… the wound is sterile—a simple GSW, she’d gotten the bullet out on the scene--

 _Mom,_ she thought shaking her head. _I’m so sorry…_

*

Jayden walked into the nurse’s break room to a very similar conversation as before, the CNO now joining to spout some made up policy about fraternizing within the hospital.

“It’s a disgrace to every nurse in the hospital, the way she acts. Doesn’t she know we already have such a stigma over our heads? Not to mention it’s against policy.”

“It didn’t seem to be against policy when you were blowing Dr. Callahan in the second supply closet.”

The woman gawked at her as if she was surprised that Jayden would ever point it out as she turned to look at them all and Molly came in.

“You’re jealous,” Jayden said. “Everyone knows that ever since he fucked what’s-her-face in Radiology out of her mind that one time, every nurse has been trying to get in TC’s pants. CNO here actually got his dick down her throat and he still didn’t want her. Halle is awesome, not to mention probably one of the only nurses in the ER besides myself and Molly that don’t look at him like a piece of meat.”

“What about Kenny?” Molly asked and Jayden shrugged.

“Different kind of meat,” she said. “Point is: don’t get up on your high horse because he just wasn’t into you.”

“As if you would know anything about it, Ms. Can’t-Get-A-Date.”

“It’s Don’t-Want-A-Date, actually. And at least I know how to give good head.”

The CNO stood from her seat and glared at Jayden as Kenny came in.

“What’s happening?” Kenny asked looking between the two of them.

“I could fire you,” she said. “Right here for insubordination and slander.”

“And I would report you for harassment and collect unemployment while you would run the entire nursing department into the ground.”

She growled, “Thin ice, Thomas.”

Jayden only smiled, “This conversation isn’t on hospital time. To fire me for it would result in a very ugly lawsuit considering you started it.”

She stormed out then and Jayden felt uniquely superior.

“Go Jayden,” Molly said bumping hips with her. “How long have you been waiting to say that?”

“Since she got promoted.”

“I don’t know, sounds like she wasn’t happy, and she is your boss” Kenny said shaking his head. “Did you have to do her like that?”

“If she can swing, she should be able to take a hit. Not my fault I hit harder,” she said and looked at him. “By the way, that was some punk ass shit to say.”

His jaw dropped as she finished making her coffee, “This is why I don’t fuck with niggas with fades, fucking oofta.”

She left then as Molly laughed and Kenny couldn’t believe she would say that.

“What the hell was that about?”

Molly only laughed, patted his shoulder and left.

*

A knock sounded on the door, pulling her back into the now.  Halle sniffed, curling tighter into herself.

“Hal’? You in there?”

She moved aside to open the door and let Jayden and TC in. She isn’t surprised that it’s the two of them. More than likely, Jayden had heard what the nurses said, maybe spoke to Nurse Ramos and went to look for TC to show her the closet they usually occupied.

Jayden kneeled to wrap her arms around her, cushioning her head against her chest as TC closed the door behind them and sat against it. She’s still crying, sniffling, but she doesn’t seem to be in the mood to speak.

“I’ll kick them in their knee caps.”

It earns a choked and watery gasp of a laugh, “I’ve got Vaseline in my locker.”

“A knife on your hip?”

“Just in case things get real.”

Jayden laughs a little bit and takes a deep breath, “Maybe you should go home, Hal?”

She shook her head, “We’re already out three nurses this shift.”

TC watched on. It was a rather new side to Halle. The way her voice sounded broken, devoid of any hope or happiness, no playful anger. He hears, stronger than ever, the darkness that edges her words most days. There’s a self-loathing and rage there. Make him think of that first year after… the way he volunteered for every crazy mission, every suicide maneuver because someone always needed a doctor… because he had a death wish.

“TC will back us up. Distract them with his naked body or something.”

TC grinned, “I’m always good to get naked, especially for a good cause.”

Jayden nods and takes another deep breath as Halle draws back, seemingly settled back into her own head.

“Time to change the plan.”

TC laughed looking at Jayden and then Halle who nodded, wiping her face and rolling up onto her feet with a deep breath and stretch.

 “Jugular?”

“Not fancy actually,” Halle said giving Jayden a hug and then turning to TC.

“Am I still banned from hugs?”

“I’ll make an exception this time,” she said humorously.

“Hooah!”and opened his arms for a hug, squeezing her tightly.

When they exit, Halle’s strides a relaxed, slow and return her to the front desk where Ramos has taken over the desk. They make it through the rest of the shift, somehow, without incident.

TC wanders in to the locker room and takes a seat on the bench to close his eyes in the darkness of the corner before hearing the door swing open again. He recognizes Halle’s rhythm of doing things. The way she stops at her locker, opens it and pulls everything out of it first. He stands to talk to her but stops as she pulls her shirt overhead and it’s all he can do to stay still as she steps out of her pants and bends to pick them off the floor. It’s a mono-kini made of leather bands around her ribcage, buckled between her shoulder blades, straps, and cups that were only a fourth mesh, a fourth black leather, and half cutout. A panel of mesh down her front to attach to what TC could only imagine were the skimpiest pair of low riding underwear he’d ever seen as they were just two straps over her hips to hold the remaining fabric in place and garter belt holding knee high fishnet stockings up.

How the fuck did she come to work with a straight face wearing _that_ under her clothes all day?

“You really want me to get brought up on charges.”

She froze, turning her head to look at him, “You really want be brought up on charges. How long have you been there?”

“I was here first this time,” he said, as if that would negate the fact that he was watching her undress.

She blinked and shook her head, trying not to laugh as she stepped back into her skirt.

“That doesn’t make it better TC.”

“I never said it would,” he said crossing the room, to straddle the bench she dressed by as she turned back to look into the mirror at the back of her locker.

“Are you alright?” TC asked after she’d gotten her shirt buttoned, laced and returned to his former state and shrugged on her blazer.

When she looked at him, he wasn’t looking at her, looking somewhere between the floor and infinity. For all his vagabond posturing, seemed like he still had a touch of civility in him. She sat down to slide into her shoes.

“I’ll be alright. Gonna hang out with Jayden, eat, drink, talk. Just… a rough day is all.”

He nodded, “If it makes you feel any better, and it probably won’t coming from me, you’re fucking brilliant.”

She looked at him and smiled, “It does. Thanks. You’re brilliant too.”

He scoffed at that, but didn’t say anything as she zipped up her boots and gathered her things. He walked her to the front where Jayden waited and bid her goodbye, bumping fists with her as two people trying to survive the undisciplined zoo that was the night shift.

_We made it one more shift…_

When they make it to Halle’s house, Jayden takes a seat at the bar while Halle busies herself in the kitchen make something beyond belief, because damn Halle could cook. Watching her pull ingredients down, Jayden knows she’s making one of her mother’s favorite dishes: pasta.

“You going to talk to me? What happened?”

Halle shook her head, “Molly was trying to cheer me up and I thought of… Mom.”

Jayden nodded, “You going to be alright?”

Halle nodded slowly, stirring whatever she was making. It smelled like Any Time Pasta, another thing she’d inherited from Evelyn.

Jayden decides to change the subject, “So…you and TC a thing yet?”

Halle scoffed, “What do you mean yet?”

“The man is trying to date you, Halle.”

Halle shook her head and Jayden wanted to strangle her. For all of Halle’s learned and earned confidence, she was still shaky in this. Mind you, Jayden couldn’t blame her. Essentially finding out that the man you’d been dating was essentially ashamed to call you girlfriend would rattle anyone’s confidence… Halle’s love life hadn’t exactly been conducive to anything resembling confidence of the romantic variety. Halle had a history of being attracted to the kind of guy that wouldn’t give her the time of day and attracting the kind of guy that she wouldn’t want within ten feet of her.

She’d dated more races than one at this point and it all came down to the same things: too insecure, uninvested, or just an asshole with a racial superiority complex.

“I’ll let it go for now, but when B’ gets here, we’ll see what she thinks.”

Of course they would.

*

It’s Halloween. The break rooms are decorated with all sorts of scary fun, pranks have been abound all shift. The food is frightfully good and terrifying. The softest pumpkin shaped cookie and mini meat pies with fake body parts sticking out of them. There’s incoming  reported from and accident and the full change over just ended. It was officially the Night Shift.

“Got your 6,” he heard from behind him seeing Halle run past. “4’s on standby.”

He grinned, directing the newly rolled in patient towards triage room four before heading back out. It was going to turn out to be a wild night it seemed.

“If I’m really good,” TC started standing with Halle outside. “Will you have dinner with me?”

Halle snorted, “Sure, but let’s not bet on your ability to be good. We all know that you have none.”

He laughed because she was absolutely right. The night rolls on and it’s nearing the end of shift before Halle takes over an empty room. It’s a quick set up, a small affair that she’s put together with Kenny, TC, and a few other members of the hospital.

The hardest part is keeping Drew busy all night and away from Rick because the man is in the hospital for a check-up that Drew doesn’t know about. TC, being the stealthy man that he is, distracts Drew with an operation he’s always wanted to do while Halle and Jayden roll Rick to the break room where the small affair is going to be held.

It’s early, but most of the night shift won’t be able to enjoy Halloween either way. They stack up his gifts beside the horrifying cake that says Happy Birthday.

“How are you feeling Rick?” Krista asked him.

Rick took a breath and shook his head, “An… ever slow adjustment.”

She nodded, “Getting better?”

He smiled at her and Halle gets the feeling that there’s something missing in the whole exchange. “Cindy”, who’s actual name is Sindia, only shakes her head and says something about dark auras hanging over Rick and Drew’s heads. Halle can only hope that the small get together they’ve organized makes it marginally better.

“TC’s on his way!”

Halle shuts off the light and everyone scrambles to be unseen from the window as Drew opened the door, turned on the light, and got a face full of candy and confetti.

“Happy Birthday!”

His cheeks turn pink immediately and he turned to glare at TC who’s grinning like the cat who got the cream.

“You told them?”

“Had to,” he grinned. “We can’t go trick or treating, but at least there is candy of the actual and man variety.”

Drew does his best to avoid the attention, but when he sees Rick there, it’s impossible because he’s got this hat on his head that says “Happy Birthday”, a noise maker in his mouth, and a bow tied on his arm.

He can’t help but smile because he looks ridiculous even as there’s a light in his eyes and the cake freaks him out even as he cuts into it and it bleeds berry blood.

“It’s a tad scary,” Drew said, plating a slice and hugging Halle. “But thank you.”

“Don’t thank me yet,” she said, giving him a scoop of chocolate ice cream.

He smiled at her and learned quickly why she said it because no sooner had he’d finished his slice of cake there were presents being shoved into his lap to open ranging from fun to ridiculous and obviously gag, to positively scandalous. If this is the gift giving he can expect, he shuddered at the thought of Christmas with these crazies.

Before long, they pack everything up and head out. He gets Rick in the truck and back to his apartment. It’s the first time since he’s been back that they share a bed, cuddled together and Rick is anything but angry. Drew rests his head over Rick’s heart, an arm around his waist, comfortable and happy.

“Happy Birthday, Drew.”


	8. He-Here Comes This Rising Tide, So Come On!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Birthdays an mischief. Also, TC lives where?

TC manages to not see Halle until the middle of shift. Jayden’s been missing too but as he hears Jayden and Halle’s voice, he realizes quickly that they’re there together in the locker room. There is the sound of shuffling clothing and the tap being turned off as he moves around the corner to see Halle’s locker open, her tote on the bench, but no Halle. He went to his locker to grab his phone and closed it, turning to look for the two of them.

_Interesting._

“She says she’ll be here in about ten minutes,” Halle says. “So get your sexy self in that dress pronto.”

“You’re one to talk!”

“My dress isn’t complicated, my hair however is and I’m almost done.”

TC stopped to stare at the completely bare curve of her ass and swears that she’s going to kill him. It’s an all lace body suit with no backing except for the low cut laced section at the small of her back and the lace at the nape of her neck. She’s twisted her hair, now in long loose waves, over one shoulder and is working to get one side of it pinned. TC takes a few steps forward, his palm itching and mischievous as she reached for the mesh and black cutout dress that looked more like it was meant to drape and reveal parts of the body suit than cover anything but her naked ass. 

He waits until the moment just after she looks up and sees him reflected in the mirror to land a solid smack on the center of her left ass cheek. She yelped, her jaw dropped and she whirled on him, aiming a punch at his shoulder, but he’s escaped by then, having grabbed what he needed from his locker and done his mischief for the day.

“TC!”

He laughs on his way out as Jayden comes out fully dressed in a hot red and gold dress that looks like a party is eminent.

“Did he smack your ass?” Jayden asked with humor in her voice as Halle began to slide into her dress. It was loose, meant more to flutter and glide around her hips. The low plunge to show off the body suit beneath and tease just a little. She fastened it around her neck and turned her head either way to check her make-up.

“Do your worst,” Jayden announced, hopping up on the sink to let Halle do her make-up. She didn’t need much, but Jayden didn’t have the steady hand needed for her eyes.

When she’s done, she slides into her spike heeled sandals and returns everything to her tote. She only needs her clutch after all. She slides on her trench coat and slides her things into her locker before locking it. Once they’re both ready to go, Halle’s phone rings announcing Brooklyn’s arrival.

“Let’s go celebrate birthday girl!”

Jayden gave out a bit of a whoo and let Halle pull her along. They don’t even make it to the front lobby before the wolf-whistling starts.

“Look at our girls, putting those tits of shelves tonight,” Drew grinned.

“Hair down, heels-- Halle and Jay’ are about to turn it up.”

“Don’t come back here on a stretcher,” Kenny said. “I don’t know if I could ever look at you the same way if you do.”

Halle laughed as she squeezed Jayden to her side, “Gotta turn it up for my girl’s birthday. Have fun.”

She thinks she’ll get out without hearing what TC has to say, but he’s there when they turn with a grin that says _I smacked your bare ass and I’m never going to let you live it down._

His eyes rake over her with the sort of prowling appreciation that’s begun to develop over the past four months.

“Must say… I like the pre-production better.”

“Don’t make me hit you with my pocketbook,” she said shaking her clutch at him menacingly.

“Ooh… kinky.”

She does in fact swat him before directing Jayden out of the hospital who looks more and more smug as Brooklyn is let out of the car by a man in a suit and comes to greet them.

“Chaffeur, huh?” Drew asked.

TC watched the interaction, getting a good look at the woman who’d gotten out of the car. Brooklyn looked old enough to be Halle’s sister and no older. He wasn’t sure if that was just the genes or if that was her actual age. But seeing them together, he could see a bit of the family resemblance. The women embrace in the cool air and chat for a moment. Jayden receiving a sash over her dress and a crown in her riotous curls.

“Jay’s living in the lap of luxury for her birthday,” Topher said almost wistfully. “That’s nice.”

“That’s Halle’s Aunt from New York. From what I understand, she is married to the lap of luxury.”

“Would have never guessed,” Drew said with a grin. “Wonder how the nurses are feeling now.”

TC glanced over to the nurses as Halle, Jayden, and Brooklyn got into the car. A Bentley meant for chauffeuring, their expressions were somewhere in between shock and disgust.

“In Halle’s words?” TC started. “Salty.”

Kenny choked out a laugh, tossing his head back and moving on his way. With Jayden and Halle gone for the rest of the shift, some of the levity had vanished, but it’s a quiet night for them.

The same is not true for Halle and Jayden because the moment they get into the car, Jayden starts talking about TC.

“There’s a smoking hot doctor that wants to bend Halle over the nearest surface and fuck her brains out,” Jayden reports. “And then cuddle her to death.”

Halle’s jaw dropped and Brooklyn turns her head slowly to bring her eyes on her niece who is somewhere in between flustered and apalled, “Now Halle, why is this coming from Jayden and not you?”

“Because she’s wrong.”

“ _Right_ ,” Jayden said with a nod of her head. “Because you two cuddling every shift isn’t a thing.”

“ _Snuggling,_ ” Halle corrected. “And—”

“TC doesn’t know how to _snuggle_ ,” she said, “And you know they’re the same thing don’t you?”

“They’re not.”

“Sure.”

“They’re not.”

“They are,” Brooklyn said. “Take it from a married woman.”

Halle huffed refusing to acknowledge that as Jayden went on to tell Brooklyn that they had secret trysts involving Halle’s underwear in the locker room.

“Accidents,” Halle corrects.

And the kiddie pool incident.

“TC’s mischief and trying to keep me out of trouble with the administration.”

“Back hugs.”

Halle rolled her eyes, “TC.”

Brooklyn cleared her throat, “That man is trying to bone you Halle. Woman up and accept it.”

Halle wrinkled her nose, “Not.”

Jayden and Brooklyn trade glances as they arrive at their destination. It’s half lounge and half club with one of the best menus in the city and the kind of bouncing technique that demands you dress appropriately for both. They get in and are shown to their booth above the dance floor. Somewhere in between drinks, food, and the dance floor, Brooklyn manages to explain to Halle in no uncertain terms that Jayden is right and she’ll have to make up her mind about what to do about it.

“If he gets any more obvious dear, he’ll be molesting you in the break room.”

Halle isn’t sure how to take that but after they each get hit on with the lamest, most drunken pick-up lines known to man at least seven times over, they decide to call it a night.  The chauffeur takes them to Brooklyn’s pent house suite and the spend the rest of the night talking about New York, the move back to San Antonio, the nurses and the insanity that was their lives at the moment. Before they know it, it’s time to head back on shift. Brooklyn drops them off just as the night shift ends with hugs, kisses, and promises to come visit again soon before climbing back into the car and pulling away.

*

“They’re running you into the ground,” Gwaine tells him. It’s the night of the seventeenth of November, it’s getting colder and honestly TC doesn’t want to hear it.

Because he knows.

His mother had threatened to tie him up in his old room to sleep if he didn’t start taking better care of himself. He’d been lucky that he was on-call and did have a valid reason to escape when he went to visit her. He felt the itch of panic just beneath his skin the entire time he was there, saw Thad every time he turned, everywhere he looked and had thanked God when his phone rang.

“I know,” he said. “But…”

“I know,” Gwaine told him. “That doesn’t mean I’m not going to keep telling you to go get some help that doesn’t belong on a Specs shelf.”

He snorted. He hadn’t drunk anything in months, hadn’t been to the bar, hadn’t been anywhere but to the hospital, to the condo and back. His fridge had been devastatingly empty.

“I’ve got to get back, talk to you later,” TC said. “Love you.”

“Love you too, TC. Take care of yourself.”

When he disconnects he lets out a breath into the dark room and his hip beeps expectantly. It’s the end of the night shift, so the day shift is about to begin and he needed another cup of coffee.

He spends most of it in and out of surgery, or in his office, getting through the list of OP reports Jordan needs audited. It takes six cups of coffee to get through to the end and he’s practically stumbling down the hallway he’s so damn tired. Usually, he would have gotten a good bit of sleep cuddling with Halle, but she had revoked his snuggling privileges and they’d been too busy to catch a break for the last few days so he hadn’t even been able to beg for a reinstatement.

_Five minutes_ , he promises himself. _Five minutes._

As usual, Halle is the only one in the locker room.

She turns in her Columbia blue and black lace underwear with John Hopkins’ sigil on her hip to see him. His eyes blink blearily at her as he continues to shuffle towards where his locker is and lay out on the bench. She gets dressed and closes her locker to wander over to him. When the lights from above are no longer burning through his eyelids like the sun over a desert, he opens them to see Halle standing over him.

“Triple?”

“Quad.”

She winced, “I suppose that’s punishment enough. Come on, get up. You have no idea who or what has been on that bench.”

He manages a smile, “If it was your gorgeous ass, I wouldn’t even mind.”

Halle shook her head and slid her hands beneath his shoulders to help him drag himself up before draping an arm around his shoulder and helping him to stand.

“To the closet and then you can sleep, promise.”

He manages to grumble, “Can I have my snuggle privileges back?”

She gives him a helplessly sad look as she wraps an arm around his waist and steers him down the hallway.

“Parole,” she said as they reach the door to the closet. “Just know I will revoke them at the first sign of any misconduct.”

He chuckles as she opens the door and helps him stumble into the room. She pours him on to the small cot and makes him roll towards the wall before climbing in. It was immediate, his arm around her waist, the heat of him pressed up behind her.

“ _Five minutes_ ,” he pleaded tugging her to lie on her back and cuddle up to her, his ear pressed against her stomach, his body curled up to her. Without meaning to, her fingers found their way into his hair, stroking through the silky strands and grazing his scalp in soothing patterns that made him moan and snuggle closer.

“You have the right to say no TC,” she said to him though he was a little past fast asleep. She dimmed her phone to continue typing away as she spoke to his sleeping form.

“You can’t keep running yourself into the ground… pretty soon you’ll regret and resent the thing you love and then what?”

She smiled a bit, sad because there was obviously more to TC’s drive to throw himself into everything, to lose himself in the chaos than a simple adrenaline rush. What he was running from, what he was trying to fix by breaking himself down, she had no idea, but she knew he had to stop if he meant to survive much longer.

She hummed low and soothing watching the way he relaxed, clinging to her, soothed maybe by her presence and maybe by the vibrations of her humming.

_My weakness is… that I care too much…_

_And my scars remind me that the past is real._

_I tear my heart open, just to feel._

When he’s in a deep enough sleep, she manages to slide from out of his hold and confiscate his beeper and phone, before setting him up with a pillow that more or less smells like her: it’s a calming scent that she’s been working on. He hugs the pillow to his face and curls tighter, burying his face in the pillow as she pulls a blanket over him.

When she closes the door behind herself, she gives Drew his pager and cellphone.

“He’s asleep.”

“Good,” he said. “He’s been running around like a damn chicken for the last few days.”

“He might be hungry when he wakes up, but he shouldn’t wake up soon.”

Drew nodded, “I’ll keep an eye out for him.”

She grinned and nodded.

While the plan was solid and TC remained undisturbed for three whole hours, their luck wasn’t as good as they hoped because there’s a disturbance in the hallway that wakes him up and as if in a haze TC rises and rushes out of the closet right behind and irate man screaming at his female companion, shoving her. TC grabs the man, an ankle hooked around his ankle to throw him off balance and toss him to the side before pinning him to the ground.

The woman is shaking, sliding down the wall as Drew comes down the hallway and approached with a security officer who approached him slowly.

“TC?” Drew asked. “TC?”

He lets out a breath and looks up at Drew, at the security officer, but Drew knows the look. He’s somewhere. One foot in the past, one in the present and still settling in the now.

“Officer Hardy’s going to take it from here.”

“Of course,” TC said, keeping the man pinned until Hardy can cuff him and drag him up. TC goes to the woman, helps her up, and guides her towards Landry’s office to talk with her.

“We were hoping to keep you sleeping a little while longer.”

TC shrugged and stretched, “I should be alright for the rest of shift.”

Drew nodded slowly, but he wasn’t convinced. He turns over his pager and phone and informs TC that he’s been “working on Jordan’s reports” since it’s been such a quiet night and promptly guides him to his office.

“Thanks,” TC said, rubbing his eyes. “Where’s Halle?”

Drew looked at his watch, “Think she’s in a meeting with the CNO.”

TC winced, not good.

The CNO is a witch on a good day, Halle knows that, but she wasn’t completely prepared for the verbal lashing she gets on a bunch of things that are entirely out of her control, like rounds not being done by other nurses because of a confusion in paperwork. She doesn’t let Halle get a word in edgewise and tells her finally that she’s on thin ice and to get out so that she can have her meeting with Jordan and Ragosa.

Halle manages not to scream as she exits her office, or stomp, but goes straight to the locker room, thankful for her fifteen-minute break coming up. She marches past the nurse’s station, pulls her cordless headphones out of her pocket and plugs them in before grabbing a jump rope.

_They got a song out here called “Whoa”. We love that, we respect that but in Texas-Louisiana we talk about that Man…_

She closes her eyes and begins to jump, fast almost too fast to keep up with but it makes her push everything else out of her mind, the rage, and righteous anger and offensiveness, between the rapping, the simple beat, and the movement of the rope. When the song changes she’s panting.

_Hi my name is so and so… baby can you tell me yours?_

She finds herself having fun, focused on half dancing, half jumping the way she does on her back patio to this song. She grinned, trying a different jump, a different pattern of pausing, focusing on the feeling of moving and the way her heart pumps in her chest—steady, sure. The world doesn’t matter, just how many crazy tricks she can do to the rhythm of the song.

_Don’t let nothing stop you… move. Ring the alarm. The club is jumping now…_

Jayden finds her there, doing some fancy super-fast cross over and singing low under her breath and begins to wonder if Halle works out in her lingerie or what.  She moves to where Halle can see her. As she jumps on one foot and switches as the rapping starts, keeping pace with the rhythm of the words.

“CNO go bad?” she asked. Halle glanced at her, doing a double tuck into a squat.

_I can feel it in the beat. When you do those things to me…_

Jayden nodded and waited through the next song, watching half amused at TC comes in as “Red Nation” ends and remix of “Rap God” began. TC moves to stand beside Jayden.

“That’s a manly workout,” TC said with a nod. “Careful, you’ll put Kenny out of business.”

_I get a hell yeah from a Dre looking boy…_

It’s not surprising that she’s listening to Eminem, but when the lyrics speed up to “supersonic” and she jumps to match the speed of them—that’s impressive.  She falls into the slower lyric pattern, finishes with a final jump and tugs her headphones out with a deep breath.

“Better?” Jayden asked.

Halle nodded, wiping her face and setting the jump rope back where she picked it up before stretching and taking deep breaths. She’s sweating heavily and it may be the sexiest he’s ever seen her…

“You’re supposed to be sleeping.”

He shrugged, “Domestic violence woke me up. You okay?”

She nodded, “CNO just… being the CNO.”

He nodded, “It’s not personal. She hates all new people.”

Jayden wanted to tell him that it was partially TC’s fault for not coming down the woman’s throat like she wanted him to, but she doesn’t say that.

That was comforting. She shook her head free and went to the locker room to change into some fresh clothes and the underwear she was supposed to be working out in before moving to get through the rest of the shift. It’s the last thirty minutes or so when she goes to meet with the Hospital Board Representative about the next phase of her pilot program and report on how it’s working so far.

She plugs in her phone and begins the presentation on everything so far. When the woman across the table, handling San Antonio’s finances, questions where the funding for the changes in food and things are coming from, she explains that the grant for her research from the Army and a few other Healthcare Initiatives who’ve teamed up pay for everything she’s doing, including her own salary.

“The institution of it was all worked out when I started.”

Her eyes widen a bit as the presentation goes on. When she suggests a far less formal approach to their psych evaluations and counseling, the board representative is impressed. From where she stands, it would definitely ease the tension related to the idea of seeing a psychiatrist among the veterans and leave the psychiatrist on duty more open to work with civilians who could really use it and have less resistance.

If they would consent to getting Ragosa and everyone else up to speed and bringing them into the conversation of how best to implement a schedule that has people sleeping and getting trained to even out the load a little more, they’d be on track.

“And what are you going to be doing with these findings?” The head of HR asked, completely new to the conversation. “It’s not as though we can allow you to mention our hospital in connection with your research without proper clearance.”

“The limitations of what I can and cannot say in my research publications have already been cleared with the hospital’s board and legal team. In short, I’m allowed to mention anyone I collaborated with, such as Dr. De La Cruz and nothing more. As you can see, I’ve already given everyone who has been quoted and used as an example pseudonyms.”

She had noticed. There were generalizations that were vague enough to fit a few people and specific enough to be confirmable. She kept track of everyone’s files strictly.

By some grace, the presentation goes well and she’s on her way to the locker room to head home for a well-deserved day off. Drew catches her before she leaves and directs her to where TC is arguing with Topher who refuses to turn over his keys.

“Toph, gimme my keys. ‘m fine.”

“Slurring like you’ve had a whole bottle of Jack? Fine isn’t the word I would use.”

He tosses them over TC’s head who’s so tired that he’s seconds too late to jump for them. Drew catches them as TC whirls around. Halle only steps forward to steady him before he collapses to the floor.

“How about I pour you into my car, Drew takes your bike, and we take you home? You aren’t fit to drive like this.”

TC lets out a breath, but her voice is… soothing, she smells like relaxation and peace. He wonders for a second if she practices her soothing voice and only pulls it out for moments like this. His head is pounding and her low, soft, warm cadence is like a firm pressure against the knots in his head, working them free of themselves.

It makes him want to moan and wiggle a bit, resist, but eventually give in. He must agree somewhere in between Scott and Jordan appearing to ask what’s going on, or rather assume in Scott’s case. Jordan knows that TC would never come to the hospital drunk. Hungover, many times, but never drunk.

“He’s drunk, isn’t he?” Scott asked looking at him. “How long?”

“He’s exhausted, actually,” Halle said, her voice still soft and soothing, mindful of the sleep deprivation migraine TC must have.

“He’s been at this hospital all week without rest and hasn’t slept in days,” Halle said.

“’m fine…” he said softly. “Jus’ ‘ake me home…”

There’s a pleading in his voice that pulls on all of Halle’s caretaker heartstrings.

“There’s a new schedule rolling out soon,” Jordan said. “This shouldn’t happen again.”

Halle can hear Scott asking _What new schedule?_ as they leave the hospital. Jayden unlocks the doors and helps her haul TC in across the backseat. Halle moves to help get TC’s bike into the bed of Drew’s truck. She pulls the straight ramp owns to set up beside the arched ramp in the back of Drew’s truck. Drew walks the bike up the curved ramp with his feet on the straight one before belting it down and making sure not to damage the paint job.  He’s done this enough times to know how to do it.

With TC passed out in the backseat, Drew texted her the address and told her that he’d drop the bike off and leave the keys with the guard so they could get in. Apparently, it wasn’t the first time he’d dropped off TC’s bike without TC after all.

Halle dropped Jayden off at her apartment first as she has plans with friends from school in about an hour before driving to The Broadway. As the building rises out of the distance, gleaming in the skyline, Halle wondered exactly how different were their upbringings that TC lived at The Broadway. The garage spiraled down and she has to explain to the guard there that she’s a visitor. They ask for who she’s visiting, her driver’s license and the length of time she intends to stay before directing her to where she could park and how to get to the lobby. She wondered if they were going to ask what her blood type was next. When she pulled up to the visitor’s spot allocated for the 21st floor she knows something is up. The bike is parked there next to another under tarp and two cars under tarps.

The Broadway is an exceptionally nice high rise in an area that screams money in a different way than the suburbs or even the gated communities where people who hated city noise lived. It screams new, high-paced, still growing money. For two, living somewhere so lavish didn’t really match TC’s personality. Not owning, she understood. The idea of permanence probably gave him the sense of immobility and heightened all those fight or flight instincts, but this was owning and not owning, permanence and luxury that didn’t make sense for a man seemingly intent to make himself suffer.

At the same time, all the space in his unit, whichever unit it was, probably afforded him the quiet he needed to either sleep peacefully, not be disturbed, or stay up far into the night.

 She supposed she was going to find out soon as she clipped her Visitor’s badge to her front pocket and got out. She pulled into the visitor’s spot beside TC’s bike and gets out to rouse him gently. He groaned and looked up at her.

“Hey,” she said softly. “We’re at your place. Let’s get you upstairs, huh? To bed?”

He grunted, something that sounds like agreement before forcing himself to sit up. Halle is there to help him drag his body forward and grab his bag before helping him stand and stumble towards the stairs. She locks her car and shoves the key in her pocket before he’s walking with a little more purpose down the row of expensive cars to the elevator that leads into the lobby. He jams his finger into the G button and pants as the elevator rises and brings them to the ground floor. She steers him towards the front desk.

“Twenty First Floor,” he managed, wheezing and his eyes shut tight, trying to focus. “Keys for Callahan. Came with a bike.”

The man at the front desk, all dark skin, white teeth, and measure tape eyes, smiles at her, that grimy smile that feels like a _hey shorty, damn you got a fat ass_ before opening a tab on his computer to search for the package that has been logged in. He finds them in the drawer as TC, before offering the keys to TC who doesn’t even look up. Halle takes the keys and thanks him.

 “You his?”

The words stop her from moving for just a moment. It isn’t the sentiment, it’s the wording and the feeling behind it. Like she was property, some pretty thing to be bartered and traded. Like she wasn’t worth a “Hello” and normal conversation. It implied a certain kind of pick up, a certain view of her as a person that shot a bolt of rage to her core.

“No one owns me.”

He leans forward his smile widening because in his mind all he’s heard is that she’s single, “Don’t be like that, boo. I just wanna let you know whatever he’s doing, it ain’t good enough for a pretty thing like you. Drunk like that when there’s all of you to drink?”

His eyes drag over her like an unwanted touch as he makes a frustrated and hungry sound. It makes her sick and angry, less the words and more the sentiment. He thought she was easy, putting up with TC’s state for some reason that wouldn’t stand the test of a ghetto pick-up line. More importantly, that TC was in the state not because of a systemic issue with the hospital but because of alcohol. Like she was some damsel needing to be rescued from the clutches of a white man with too much power.

“White boy don’t know what to do with all that…Girl, I’d hit it right.”

The bolt rips through her again and years of fending of wanna-be-men who thought that sex was the way to keep any woman at his side flash behind her eyes. It takes everything in her to keep her hands on TC and not punching him across the desk.

“Do you get a bonus to pry into visitor’s business?” she asked politely. “And be crude about it?”

The man chuckled a bit, “I see. I respect a woman who keeps her business confidential. I respect the class, but when you’re sick of Johnny-Can’t-Hold-His Liquor, and you’re ready to talk to a real man, come talk to me. I get off at noon.”

She glanced at his badge for just a moment to get his name and to tell him, “Mr. Timmons, is it?”

“Yeah, but you can call me Michael.”

“Michael then,” she said. “It would be best you not make assumptions about people who pay your salary.”

His eyes narrowed and he looked at TC, breathing heavily, a fever setting in from stress alone. He needed sleep. Thankfully, a woman in a very crisp grey suit and bright red top appeared and her eyes widened at the scene.

“Dr. Callahan,” she started, rushing forward. “We’ll get someone to help him to his condo. Michael, get--”

“No need, I’ve got him,” Halle cut in smoothly as Michael’s eyes widened. “Please make sure that your employees know what is and is not included in their job description. Next time, I won’t be so kind.”

With that, she turned and guided TC towards the elevator that led to his floor. The woman asks Michael what he said and as she knows it’s all on camera, video and audio, he’ll be reprimanded soon enough. She turns the key and presses the button for the 21st floor.

“You still with me, TC?” She asked as the elevator began to ascend.

It’s nothing like the elevator at the hospital which rumbles and shakes and sometimes doesn’t work at all. It’s like being taken in palm and lifted smooth and quick into the atmosphere.

He grunted and chuckled, “You didn’t have to defend me, Halle. God knows how many times I’ve come back here drunk as hell.”

_Never,_ his mind supplied. He never came back when he was drunk. Never caught a cab or hitched a ride, never could stomach the idea of being so out of control in a place every part of him knew was safe, solid ground. The last time he’d been drunk, he’d been drinking with Gwaine.

Everything had come rushing out in a wet, desperate, depressed mess of words that had Gwaine pulling him close, rocking him, and telling him that everything would be okay…

“I did and I do,” she said with a finality that made him smile and his heart quake, though that may have just been the heart palpitations. “You’re probably dehydrated and starving so if you can manage it, I’m going to get some food in you.”

He grunted again as the elevator stopped and he directed her down the hall to the “really pretentious looking one that says Ambassador”. She manages to turn the key and found that the door wouldn’t open.

“What?”

TC lifted his head to slide his hand over the grey panel to open the panel and then pressed his hand against the clear glass. There was a click before numbers appeared on the tiny screen.

“Oh, eight, one, three, one, nine, eight, one.”

She typed it in and heard a second click and finally the door swung open to a living room larger than her own and far more lavish. Where it was obviously a place of luxury, it lacked the sense of home that Halle’s home had. Hardwood flooring and glass doors leading out to the balcony, the place was huge and tad lonely. It didn’t look like TC spent any time there at all.

She steered him towards the plush looking couch, which he fell back on with a groan. She kneeled at his side, placing a hand on his forehead and taking his pulse. It was fast, unsteady, he needed sleep and the stress was way too much for him to handle much longer.

“You need sleep,” she said softly. “And you need food. Anything in your kitchen?”

He shook his head weakly, “Be’? Hal’?”

She pulled off his shoes and pulled him up to stumble in the direction he guided her to a massive bedroom with carpet so plush she thought she was stepping on a cloud. She set him on the bed before telling him to hold on for her and she’d get something in his system. It ended up being make shift Gatorade and vitamins she found in his kitchen cabinet, but it was better than nothing while she dug through her tote for something edible and produced a stack of Tupperware with food she’d packed before shift in the hopes that she would get to eat. She hadn’t and it came in handy now. She warmed up the soup and retoasted the sandwich before getting him eat it all, drink two glasses of water and lay down.

She peeled the blankets and sheets back with the odd realization that they’d never been undone. The sheets still smelled freshly laundered, but there was obviously no trace of a maid.

“ _’alle?_ ”

She turned to him, watching his eyes squint at her, his arm reaching for her shaking and it twisted something painful in her to see him like that.

“I’m here,” she soothed, crawling across the bed to tuck him in. “Feeling a little better?”

“Can’…s’ee…”

Her eyes burned as she leaned forward to run a hand through his hair. He moaned, flushed, and exhausted as she looked at him. How did it get this bad?

How often did he do this to himself?

“How come?”

“Nev’ s’ee here…quie’…”

She made a sound, somehow she figured that would be the case. She grabbed her phone and plugged it in to the docking station at his bedside before turning on her yoga playlist that consisted mostly of instrumentals of old school ballads and R&B hits. He hummed, blinking slowly as he turned, his brow sweaty.

She left for a moment to find a towel and an ice pack, not surprised that he had a really good type that stayed cold out of the freezer for up to twelve hours before returning with it wrapped in a towel and laid across his forehead. He sighed.

“You’re so… goo’ to me, Hal.” He said dreamily. “Even’ough I don’ deserve i’ ‘anks…”

“You do deserve it,” she said gently, holding his hand and squeezing. “You deserve it.”

“’errible ‘erson…”

“You’re not.”

“Idio’…crazy…useless…”

“You’re not,” she soothed, drawing him closer and adjusting the cooling towel so he could lay on his side. “You’re an amazing doctor, an awesome friend, and the greatest vagabond to ever live.”

He let out a weak chuckle and slid an arm around her waist, “’a’s my bro’er… Gwaine…”

She smiled and stroked his hair, dragging her nails across his scalp until he began to relax by degrees. Maybe soothed by her presence, or the sound of her heart beating, alive and there beside him. She was warm, but not feverish, but that warm that settled in your chest from a mug of hot cocoa and family gatherings, like holding newborns…

It felt like hope and stability, of assurance and love and drew him under, deeper into a black hole of a dreamless sleep and a peace he’d thought he’d never reach again.

When he wakes up, it’s dark outside and there’s the sound of slow breathing above his head, the feeling of manicured fingertips in his hair and a softness that his head rests against. Then there’s the sound of rain falling and he freezes because their tiny closet at the hospital is practically sound proof. When he turns to look out the window, it’s a dark and stormy landscape of rain lashing the windows and anything caught outside.

His bedside telephone rings with the number at the front desk. It’s security trying to verify that a Halle Martin is still there and should still be in the building. He tells them that she’ll be staying until further notice, thanks them for their service, and hangs up before looking at her, curled up on her side, sleeping. She looks younger in her sleep, as if she’s without the fierceness and past pain that makes up her years. She’s beautiful, having changed into a huge t-shirt and loose shorts. He swallowed thickly seeing her there and pulling the covers back.

He checks her pulse and breathing, relieved that both are normal. There are no visible bruises, but he slides out of bed anyway and walks to the kitchen to get rid of the dryness in his mouth. In his refrigerator, there’s the normal bowl of apples, a half a block of cheese, and two stacks of Tupperware.

He reaches out and realizes that it’s glass and the fact that they’re all full and there is odd. He frowns and looks in the freezer. There’s frozen vegetables that have been there for months, steaks that have been there just as log from the last time he’d thought to shop for groceries.

He shakes his head and refills his cup before pulling out the steaks and setting them in the sink. The dishwasher has a thermos and two Tupperware squares.

He vaguely remembers eating something. Something warm and flavorful, something that tasted like ham too… and drinking something sweet.

Halle must have fed him, which was why he didn’t feel like he was going to eat his own arm. Instead, he thought he would vibrate out of his skin, because they’d slept together for far longer than the power naps they partook in at the hospital.

He could have had an episode, could have hurt her, could have--

The important part was that she was okay, the other important part was that there was no way he was going to let her drive home in the monsoon outside. They had the day off, but--

“TC?”

He turned slowly at her sleep-warm voice and gave her a smile, “This isn’t exactly how I imagined getting you into my bed, but I’ll roll with it.”

She blinks at him, drags her eyes over him slowly, and then returns to his face before walking slowly, her hands painfully visible as she walked towards him, her eyes meeting his. She wrapped her arms around him, pressing her hands flat against his back and her head against his chest.

“I can go if it’s going to set you on edge like this.”

He chokes out a laugh and squeezes her close, “Why on Earth would I want that?”

It’s a low-level twitching that she can feel beneath her palms. She stays still against him, hearing his heartbeat speed up and squeezing her tighter.

“I’m alright,” she said. “You didn’t hurt me.”

_But I could at any moment…. At any time…_

His PTSD episodes when he was dating Jordan had been less frequent than ones since they broke up. He’d been angry, confused, and so hurt inside that there was nothing there. He left the apartment more often than not, left again when he and Jordan were having a break, only to be told that she wanted to end it as soon as she touched down in San Antonio. She’d followed him to San Antonio, to a job she’d already committed to, but had stayed for something else.

He hadn’t started getting violent in his flashbacks until later after they’d already broken up. They got worse or better sometimes, but more often than not happened while he was sleeping… he’d taken to power napping rather than long stints of sleep to keep it from happening. Even though the nightmares would usually wake him, there was no telling how long he’d be under, reliving some moment of blood and sand.

“TC,” she said softly. “You with me?”

It’s shaky, but he nods, “I’m here.”

She nodded, “Hungry? I promise to get out of your hair as soon as I make sure you’re okay.”

TC chuckled, “I could eat.”

His stomach growled and all at once the tension exploded. They were laughing, giggling like children. Eventually, Halle regained her wits enough to tell him she’d make food if he told her where everything was.

“Halle, I could—”

“Don’t want to hear it, you’ve been under enough stress taking care of people. Let someone take care of you for a change.”

He threw up his hands in defeat and told her where everything was before shuffling to the plush couch, lounging and watching her move around in the kitchen. It was an odd feeling hearing her talking while she cooked, responding, laughing with her.  A homey, comfortable feeling… he snorted.

“What’s so funny?”

“I’m thinking warm and cozy and I haven’t even asked you on a proper date yet… I fail so badly.”

She laughed, “Per your words, I am very warm and cozy.”

“Cuddly,” he corrected. “Warm and cuddly.”

She giggled, handing him a plate, “Warm and _snuggly_.”

He grinned at her and accepted the plate, moaning at first bite. He couldn’t remember the last he’d eaten a meal in this condo.

“So did you spend all your money on this condo or are you just too lazy to go to the store?”

TC grinned, “Neither. My brother owns the condo and I just don’t have time to be bothered with picking produce and meats and… _eggs_.”

She nodded with a giggle, “How long till you run out of shampoo?”

He shrugged, “I shower at the hospital. No clue.”

She laughed at that, “Your hair is so luxurious.”

“It’s the genes.”

“You brother’s hair is this luxurious?”

“Even more so—he takes care of it. Hair Product stocks and all.” She laughed, “Don’t tell him I told you that though.”

“Sibling rivalry?”

“Twin rivalry,” he corrected. “He’s the older, but don’t tell him I admitted to that either.”

She snorted, “Your mom’s confirmed?”

He nodded, “I got it out of her before I enlisted… worst decision of my life. Gwaine doesn’t know though, but he assumes.”

She nodded, “Rough. Is Gwaine the brother who likes the Vikings?”

He shook his head, “That’s… my oldest brother… Thad…probably the only one with a normal name besides Drew.”

It’s the melancholy in his tone that keeps her from asking, keeps her from pushing, so she smiles anyway.

“Am I ever going to get your first name?”

“Nope.”

Her jaw dropped, “What? Why not?”

“I don’t tell anyone my first name.”

“No one?”

“No one. They even called me TC when I graduated.”

She nodded, “Challenge accepted.”

He grins at her, “You’ll never take me alive, Halle.”

“I don’t take prisoners,” she said. “I take slaves.”

“Ooh,” he nodded. “That’s more my speed.”

She rolled her eyes; she could always count on TC to be ridiculous. They spend the rest of dark and stormy night chatting about pretty much anything, even though Halle quickly steers the conversation away from her “slaves” and if she had a Dominatrix body suit. He learns that not only is she the youngest, but she’s the youngest of sixteen.

“Hold on… I need to process that.”

She nodded, “Take your time.”

“Sixteen?”

“All by different women… except for the twins. Twins run in my family as do triplets.”

“You… One man had that many children?”

She nodded, “Good old Timothy Baker Sr. I’m my mother’s only kid and my Dad’s baby girl.”

He stared, “You got spoiled didn’t you?”

She tilted her head, “Not really.”

“And uh… how hard is dating you?”

She laughed, “Surprisingly not that hard.”

“How many of that fifteen are brothers?”

“Eight.”

“Sounds hard to me,” he said letting out a breath. “And you said they’re all military.”

She nodded, “My grandpa was Marine, Dad was Air Force, Cam’s Navy, and everyone else is Army.”

She had an uncle on both sides who were ex-Marines, an uncle on her mother’s side that was a Navy SEALS, and most of the men in both sides of the family were some branch of military.

“Sounds like a lot of war stories.”

She groaned, “You have no idea!”

Listening to Halle talk about her family was telling. She obviously loved them all, but he’d never seen her so animated imitating her grandfather who swore up and down that he was in WWII even though he was _way_ under eighteen at the end of the war.

“Swears I don’t know how to do math every time, but then wants to talk about how brave he was in the Korean War…”

TC laughed, loud and bright, filling the condo with the rich sound of it as she went on to her uncle, now in his late sixties who had some undetermined number of children, all cousins who she met over the course of her life and all showed up at the family reunion. The same uncle who always asked her to introduce him to her nurse friends.

“Something about role-play and then being set when he gets older.”

TC shook his head, clutching his stomach, “Please stop. Please. I can’t.”

“No, no, no, you aren’t ready because my uncle is what we call a Straight-Up-Fool.  He said, and this is the best part, he likes a _legitimate role-play experience.”_

TC fell off the couch and on to the floor, gasping for breath, his cheeks flushed with laughter as he clutched his aching abdomen, contracting so hard it was painful, but hell it was hilarious. When she officially stops telling him about her family shenanigans, the conversation moves to a more solemn, intellectual note. He’s not surprised that she reads the medical journal almost religiously, but is pleasantly surprised that she understands and is willing to share her theories on certain procedures and practices. It’s the kind of conversation he should be having with a fellow doctor or an army medic turned doctor, honestly, because her own background with emergency rescue, Peace Corp, independent research in war zones and EMT work give her a perspective that is completely different than any trained-by-the-books, or trained by war, doctor could have. He isn’t sure how long they talk, but when they wake up again, there’s enough time for her to run home, shower and for them to both get to the hospital in time for their next shift.

He bids her goodbye at the door and tells her how to get back to the parking lot and that he’ll let security know that she’s a welcome visitor.

“You’ll regret that,” she said. “I may just change your life.”

“You already have.” He told her leaning on the door, not out of exhaustion, but for the sheer hell of it to watch her walk down the hall to the elevator.

When she’s out of sight, he turned to his condo and felt something like frustration. How on earth could he justify bringing her with the intention to woo and the place looked so… empty?

Better luck next time he thought with a nod making it a point to come home and maybe unpack a box or two.

*

He’s eating a bowl of steak nachos, doused in cheese, meat, and sour cream in the break room. He’s eaten a whole plate of salad with apple salad dressing from whoever is catering the doctor and nurse’s break rooms and watching Halle talk with another doctor about a procedure she’d be assisting with when it dawns on him. He’s slept… really slept. No nightmares, no flashbacks, no screaming –slept and spent a whole day cooped up in the condo with her without a single incident. The screaming hadn’t even been at the back of his head either, for the whole day. He’d had a whole day of _peace_.

Before she leaves with the doctor, she tells him to go grocery shopping when he gets off work, if he needs a ride with more trunk space: “Ask.”

He grins at her and nods. He feels…good. Yeah, good. Good is the word he’s feeling. He didn’t realize how long it had been since he felt good either. It was longer than he thought if he had to figure it out. It was an oddly quiet shift, quiet enough that he could hole himself up in his office and work through the OP report auditing. He was just now in the current year. When he got off, he did in fact ask for help with groceries, unable to balance them on his bike.

She took him to Cotsco and let him push the basket because he really wanted to. They spent at least an hour of the trip wandering around and eating samples like a pair of teenagers in the mall or something. He knows that Gwaine gave him his Cotsco card, but he doesn’t mention it to Halle until they’ve loaded up their respective baskets and a set of anchor Tupperware, like the set she had.

“You sly devil,” she said as he handed over his Cotsco card to the person behind the register.

He only grinned at her, “Yours too.”

She shook her head, “Nope.”

“Yours too,” he insisted, stealing her basket and sliding it towards the woman behind the cash register.

She narrowed her eyes at him and he chuckled, “Don’t. Call it a thank you for taking care of me.”

“I thought we were close,” she said. “I don’t need a thank you.”

“Every good deed deserves a thank you. Close or not.”

There was a flicker of something across her face that he couldn’t really understand, but didn’t question as he paid for their groceries and headed back towards her car.

She set hers in the back seat and his in the trunk. She was restocking while he was actually stocking his fridge. And maybe when his fridge is full with groceries, he convinces her to stay a little longer. There’s nothing she bought that won’t be okay in the car. They have breakfast, which he makes, thick cut steaks, eggs, fluffy pancakes, and apple foster all courtesy of the recent grocery trip.

She’s laughing as TC tells her about growing up with three brothers, all the shenanigans they’d get into. The way their mother would convince them to eat salad.

“Apples,” she guessed with a grin, swirling a piece of steak in the running egg yolk on her plate as he sat beside her.

“Apples all the time for us, Thad was sort of neutral, and Drew leaned towards the berry side of the divide… I’m pretty sure Mom bought stock in an fruit harvesting company just for us…. She also has an apple tree, a bunch of berry plants, and the like behind the house…”

She shook her head, “Insanity.”

“It was the best.”

When they finish, TC washes dishes, sets them in the dishwasher and hands over the Tupperware she left in his refrigerator, washed and empty. He walks her to her car this time bids her goodbye and tells her to drive safe, feeling oddly light.

Yeah… _good_ is definitely the word. He set to unpacking as soon as he got upstairs because how could he justify a third time of bare walls and lifeless décor to his inner vagabond?


	9. Wave The White Flag!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Gwailin!

When he got off the plane, he was sure that his mother would be there waiting for him, through some sixth sense that mother’s were supposed to have, but she wasn’t. Instead, she called him, asking him how he was dong, telling him that TC was doing about the same… maybe worse according to the last time she’d seen him, which had been months ago. He took a cab to The Broadway and went directly to the twenty-first floor. He pressed his hand to the screen and typed in the code before walking in, bracing himself for what he’s bound to see.

The last time he’d come, there had been apples in the refrigerator, per the terms of their agreement, and nothing else. There had been garlic powder, salt and pepper in the spice cabinet, the pantry had been empty. The kitchen had the air of a place that was rarely visited with the exception of the alcohol cabinet. His laundry had been piled up by the washing machine, the bed had been immaculate and there were grooves worked into the carpet by his bed. The kitchen had looked completely sterile with only a microwave on the counter. There had been more beer bottles in the fridge and on the table than any thing. It looked…. Like a nightmare war zone and TC had been curled up behind his bed, his eyes shut and rocking. The bed behind him had been immaculately made and it was a well-known fact that TC _hated_ to make his bed.

They’d gone out drinking and when they’d gotten home afterwards, it had all come pouring out. It had shaken him, the way TC looked up at him, eyes empty and bloodshot, tears streaming.

_Gwaine… he’s dead…and it’s all my fault…_

Gwaine took a deep breath around the memory of that night, closed the door behind him and walked forward to get a good look into the living room.

A mug and a few cards were the only occupants, resting on the table with an inch of liquid at the bottom. It wasn’t a mug that Gwaine had bought, which made it a new addition. Something horrifyingly wonderful because TC hated to buy dishes.

The words in bold ink made him laugh: Superhero On Break: Be Back In Ten.

He sets his bag down by the table and looks at the cards on the table. _Veteran’s Counseling_ was the card that sat on top with dates on it. Then the pages beneath it that looked to be welcome materials to said group and another _Prisoners Of War No More,_ and _For Those Who Have Gone Before_. The last time he’d come, there had been no trace of them unless they were in the trash. He lifted the mug and carried it towards the kitchen. From the smell of it, it’s tea not coffee. Since when did TC drink tea? Gwaine shook his head; perhaps he hadn’t been but had had someone over who did…

That didn’t sound right either: TC having company over. He’d given TC the condo for a few reasons: he didn’t want TC to have to worry about a living space when he got there, TC didn’t want to live at home, afraid that something would happen, and to give TC a place that every part of him could recognize as a safe zone. There were no intruders, no noise through the walls, no one there to see him if things got dicey, or if he had an episode. He’d wanted to protect TC’s pride just a little bit if he could.

So the likelihood that TC had had company long enough to share tea with and leave it half way finished was unlikely.

Since when did TC drink tea? He took a sip.

 _Vanilla chai green tea?_ It was good, he’d never tasted this blend before. He found out why when he saw the electronic multi-cup percolator on the counter beside a clear jar with a silver top.

Wait… TC had _containers?_

Containers that actually that actually had things in them that wasn’t the fruit bowl in the fridge?  His eyes scanned the countertop finding more of the same clear glass, silver top, containers filled with other things. He set about opening them: raw sugar, whole-wheat flour, _brown rice_ and stopped at the last jar filled with a thick amber liquid: honey.

“Alright,” he said shaking his head and closing the jar, sliding it back into place. “What the hell is going on?”

Determined to find the gag letter, the trick, he went through the kitchen and every cabinet, encountering sets of dishes, glasses, cups, plates, all that were there before but in lesser quantities. The dishwasher was full of dishes, there was a full plate that looked smeared with some sort of sauce in the sink, a fork, a knife, and a frying pan. The blender was actually on the counter….looking splashed with something as if it had been used. The pantry was full of jars, bags of rice and polenta…

_Bob’s Red Mill Polenta?_

Since when did TC buy Bob’s Red Mill anything? Last he checked, TC went for whatever was the first on the shelf and didn’t even have time to _cook_ most days. Snacks of all kinds, jams, canned fruits, protein powder, beans and a whole host of jars he couldn’t see. The seasoning cabinet was full with more than just salt and pepper, but spices and unmarked blends.  Despite all this, it was the refrigerator and the freezer that gave him pause.

Tupperware.

There was Tupperware, as in leftovers, in TC’s fridge and food in the fridge and freezer. He promptly closed the door and walked out of the kitchen, sure that he’d walked into some sort of twilight zone, but then he went into TC’s bedroom to find the bed unmade, an empty glass on the bedside table and the Sony docking station actually set with the correct date and time along with a framed photo.

His heart stutters because he hasn’t seen the picture in so long. It’s a Halloween picture from when they were children, the year they agreed to dress according to their names: Drew’s tenth birthday as well. They were all grinning at the camera: the knight, the wizard, the kid with talking toys, and the tomb raider. Their mother had been a queen consort dressed in the style of the time of Charlamagne. In the corner of it, a picture of TC, Drew, and Thaddeus in Afghanistan, grinning at the camera, looking like hell, but alive.

He smiles a bit at that and proceeds to raid TC’s closet, finding his clothes are actually folded and hung up, before showering and placing his things in his room on the other side of the condo. As he goes, he realizes that the study has been used as an actual study. It reminds him of when TC would work on his research during his dual degree program. He gets his hair mostly dry before grabbing his keys from the drawer in his room and heading down stairs to the garage.

“Hello my love,” he grinned. “Hope my second favorite wizard has been taking good care of my stead.”

Deep green accents lacing the cycle’s panels, beautiful and generally enchanting, his brother had been at the very least keeping his faithful steed polished. He grinned and swung a leg over the seat before drawing up the panel and guiding it slowly out of the garage. From the sound of the engine, TC had been maintaining it. Good, he would have strangled the other if not. A knight needs his stallion in proper form after all, especially after a long absence. He heard drove up the ramp, tapped out, and slid on his shades as he drove into the late evening light and drove towards San Antonio Memorial. The road there didn’t seem to have changed at all, if anything it was still as scenic as ever.

What did change was the general noise in front of the hospital. There had apparently been an emergency and if he knew TC, he’d only have to walk towards the chaos to find him. He strides through the Emergency Room doors as people flutter around and slide his glasses on top of his head before it happens as he expected.

“Dr. Callahan, before you get swept away--”

He turned to look at the woman rushing towards him, “Could you check this order before I process it?”

He winced not even glancing at the paper work because he was sure it wouldn’t mean anything to him, “Unfortunately, darling… I can’t help you, especially if it has to do with medical procedures. I don’t have that gift.”

She blinked seeming to not understand, “What?”

“Wrong brother,” he said with a grin offering her his hand to shake. “I’m Gwaine Callahan.”

“Brother?” She asked, seeming to catch on and taking a look at him.

His hair was a little longer, tied back in a short ponytail at the nape of his neck. He was wearing TC’s clothing… identical… twins? Why was this not common knowledge before he showed up?

“If you do find the face-stealer, let him know the owner is looking for him.”

“Right….” She said nodding, and he heard TC’s voice shouting a bunch of medical terminology that meant very little to him.

Gwaine turned to see TC rushing past him towards the Ambulance receiving doors as the back door opened up. She looked at TC, his focus on the people being pushed in, listening to the EMTs talk and then to Gwaine who watched on with an odd sort of fondness.

“TC,” Molly started coming up behind them and then watching the TC look alike motion towards the TC look alike in scrubs.

“There’s… two of him?”

Gwaine snorted, “Not quite, my dexterity is used for other things.”

They looked between the two of them confirming that there were in fact two TCs running around. Molly knew he had a brother, a living brother, but TC never mentioned that he was a twin… an identical twin. What a crazy start to shift.

When TC turns around and shouts “Ramos” his eyes stop at Gwaine’s face and he watches his brother stare and say his name like he’s some impossible thing, because he should be. The face that always looked like his own was there, looking at him, his heart skipped a bit. Gwaine was half way around the world the last time they’d talk, yet now… he’s here.

 “Busy?” Gwaine asked.

TC grinned and nodded, “It’s a face that looks like mine! Yes, busy. Don’t think I don’t have time for you handsome, but the lovely lady on this gurney needs me.”

He rolled his eyes, TC hadn’t changed a bit… but that wasn’t entirely true either. He didn’t look nearly as tired or stressed out as the last time they’d seen each other. He’d have to ask Drew about that.

“Deal with your patients, little brother,” he said. “I’ll wait.”

“I thought we decided I was the older one this year,” he said grinning as Molly moved to help guide the gurney into the nearest triage room.

 “In your dreams, little brother.”

He laughed as he passed and Gwaine took a seat in the waiting room, pulling out his phone and settling in to get some work done. It isn’t long before someone is standing over him. White lab coat, strappy sandals, and a hand on her hip.

Gorgeous in that sultry sort of way that made him grin and look at her appreciatively.

“It’s odd to see you taking a break while on duty, TC.” She started as he looked up. “You alright?”

He grinned, looking her over, “Just fine.”

“Not exactly where you’re supposed to be… I count that as a little odd.”

“And… how would you punish people who are where they’re supposed to be?”

“I hand them off to Ragosa,” she said tilting her head.

He grinned, “Kinky. Didn’t peg you to be into that sort of thing.”

She laughed, “Are you feeling okay?”

“I’m feeling all sorts of kinds of great, looking at you to be honest…And I wouldn’t mind getting in trouble if I’m getting in trouble with you.”

She tilted her head, narrowed her eyes and he waited for it to kick in. Sure, he could have said something, but it’s always nice to find out how people talk to his little brother and a woman that gorgeous casually flirting was a good thing.

“Who are you?”

He hissed, seemed like he was busted, “Me? I’m just a man with a face looking at a woman with a whole lot of body. Hello.”

Landry shook her head, another one swaggering TC wasn’t what this hospital needed, “TC Imposter, though a very good one, who are you?”

“I feel offended. I’m the eldest!”

She offered her hand to shake, “I’m Landry, nice to meet you.”

He shook her hand, “Gwaine.”

“TC mentioned a brother, he never said a twin.”

“It’s in the twin contract. Best left a surprise.”

She laughed and offered to take him to the break room where TC would more than likely head once he was free from the fray. Gwaine grinned and took her up on that offer while continuing to shamelessly flirt with her.

“If anyone asks,” Landry said. “Please tell them that you’re his brother, it’s a surprise, and to take it up with Dr. De La Cruz.”

He nodded, “Got it beautiful, thanks for your help.”

She nodded and headed out. People come in and out of the break room, greeting him, shocked to see him there, on his phone, or doing any number of things. It’s Drew who clears up the confusion, because of course Drew would. He could always tell them apart from the very first time they met. How he could, they still didn’t know and Drew didn’t have an answer either.

“Gwaine?”

The others present in the break room look at Drew as if he’s insane as Gwaine stands to hug him, greet him properly and grin. Drew’s gotten bigger again, probably all the MMA fighting, but he knows for sure that the other is still as soft and squishy on the inside as when they were kids.

“Buzz cut… it works for you. Scrubs don’t do you justice though.”

He laughed, “Not everyone can own stock in Pantene and work in Marc Jacobs. This is Gwaine, TC’s brother. Please don’t ask him for anything medicine related if it’s not related to how to cure a hangover.”

They stare gawking at Gwaine who only grinned, “It was good while it lasted. Kind of nice to know people love him…”

Drew winced, pouring himself a cup of coffee as everyone files out, probably to spread the warning that there’s a non-medical TC in the breakroom. When they’re all gone and they’re alone, Gwaine pins Drew with a look that he knows means interrogation.

“Better or worse?”

Drew looked surprised as if he hadn’t been expecting that question, “Better.”

“Why do you look surprised?”

“I just… I’m surprised that you would ask that. I thought you two talk every two weeks.”

“We do,” he said, but there was only so much he glean over the phone and it was hard trying to figure out whether he’d been getting better or worse. Drew was easier as Drew couldn’t lie to him or Regina about how he was doing… He could try, but he would always give himself away. From what his mother said about the last time she’d seen TC, months ago, he looked about the same, maybe a little more run down, but sort of stable.

“Your surprise have anything to do with the fact that my brother drinks tea now?”

Drew laughed, “Probably.”

T.C. gets out of the fray for a proper greeting and arrives in the break room with his scrub cap still on and open arms, “Gwaine!”

Gwaine laughed and stood to cross the room and hug him. The first thing he notices is that TC had gained weight, he feels about the same size as he was when he was in the army, maybe a little more toned now. His grip is strong, sure, but not a desperate search for stability and that was huge. He’s happy to see him, not desperate for reassurance.

That’s good.

“How are you?” He asked and felt TC grinning into his shoulder.

“Running away from that smoking hot nurse who is still trying to feed me.”

“She the reason I felt like I walked into a twilight zone earlier?”

He nodded, pulling back, “Yeah.”

“Really? Has something changed?”

“No, but I’m also trying to get her to enjoy a bit of sexual harassment between friends.”

Gwaine laughed, “Enjoying it or not, it’s still sexual harassment.”

T.C. nodded, “I understand that, if you meet her you’ll understand.”

He had no doubt and made a mental note to inform their mother of this woman in his life as soon as he met her. Molly stuck her head in.

“Drew, TC, need you in the front.”

“Back into the fray,” TC said before looking at Gwaine. “I’ll catch you later? Round midnight for dinner?”

He snorted, “Dinner? More like second dinner.”

TC shoved him playfully, told him to lay low if he was staying, or hide in the tailgate area before following Drew out of the room. There’s a blonde haired man and a dark haired woman at the nurse’s station. The blonde looks as though he’s going to blow a gasket while the woman speaks calmly to the pale brunette manning the desk.

“Yes, he should have come in. He should be wearing a medical bracelet.”

The brunette types away on her computer and flips through her paperwork to find the patient they’re looking for.

“Em…”

“Emrys,” the blond grits out. “It’s Emrys.”

“Right,” she nodded. “Well we’re running his insurance currently, but he’s in the OR.”

“Can you tell me how long he’ll be in surgery? A status?” The woman asked, keeping a hand on the blonde’s arm.

They’re accents make TC think of Gwaine when he’s been in England too long and they’re clearly asking about someone important to them. How they got here so fast, he had no idea, but waited for Nurse Gallagher to explain that the man has sustained several injuries, lacerations, and broken his leg and should be, so long as there are no complications, out of surgery within a few hours.

The woman thanks her and steers the man towards a chair. TC bets he’s the sort of high strung that leads to strokes. The sit and TC moves towards where the OR was opening up.

*

When he wakes up, the first thing he realizes is that the steady beeping to his left is an EKG and he’s in the hospital. He’d been driving he thought, driving to the new office building when there had been the screech of tires across the ground.

There’s a man standing at his bedside, flipping through paperwork, reading quietly and as he sight focus on his face, his heart stumbles.

“Gwaine?”

The man turns to look down at him with a curious look before Merlin can rethink it. Gwaine hates chemistry and blood. He remembers how freaked out he was when Merlin cut his hand while chopping for dinner. He’d been in a full panic, about to call the paramedics before Merlin bodily made him sit down and chill out. It was such a change from their past life considering how bloody Gwaine got as a knight in armor he hated, defending Arthur’s life and country. He wondered if Gwaine had been squeamish back then or if it was just a residual stress reaction from the memories.

“I’m Dr. Callahan, TC Callahan,” he said leaning over Merlin’s bedside.

“Do you remember what happened?” Merlin groans, turning his head, a tingle in the back of his throat as he tries to focus.

TC… TC… that was Gwaine’s brother… who lived…in… San Antonio. San Antonio, he was in San Antonio.

“San Antonio…”

“Yes,” TC told him. “You’re in San Antonio Memorial Hospital.”

“You’re … Gwaine’s brother?”

He smirked, “I am. How do you know him?”

Merlin heard him pulling something from his pocket, a hand on his forehead and a voice that sounded so much like Gwaine it was uncanny. There was a difference, an inflection and rhythm of the words, but the timbre was the same. A low rumble over his senses.

“Dated…” he managed as TC continued doing whatever it was that he was doing.

Why was he so hot?

“Dating…” he said, “Complicated.”

TC nodded, how interesting. Gwaine had never told him that he’d found his Merlin, because the man lying in the bed looked as though he’d come from Gwaine’s childhood descriptions of a “Merlin” from his past life. He’d always teased his brother about his destiny to meet that Merlin again, but Gwaine had never wavered in his belief. Maybe he’d been a little jealous that his brother had such a thing as a destiny that he knew of and believed while TC was just trying to get as much information stuffed in his head and as many connections as he could manage in the little time he had.

His temperature was elevated and though Merlin should have been in pain, there was something in the way that he moved that made TC suspicious. He flipped through the pages, everything seemed to be in order until he reached the EMT notes: medical bracelet on left arm.

There was no further information. TC frowned and looked at the man’s wrist, before lifting it to read the words there.

_Merlin Balinor Emrys_

_Emergency Contact: Gwen Pendragon 0 44 697 496 596_

_Allergies: Morphine, Vicodin, Penicilin, Amoxcilin, Nylon._

TC bit his lip and cursed, hitting the button above Merlin’s head. It was Nurse Diaz who showed up as he printed the information on the chart, dated, and signed it.

“Diaz, get Scott and tell him he’s going to have to re-do these stitches, he’s going to need anaphylactics and amphetamines instead.”

Diaz nodded turning to find Scott before TC rallied nurses to prep an OR for him and trying to keep Merlin calm and conscious.

“He said it’s going to have to wait, he’s in a meeting with Ragosa and the board,” Diaz told him, TC lifted the gauze work to see the beginnings of a rash.

“Does that look like it can wait? Get him to the OR. If he’s going to be angry, let him be angry with me. “

Fucking protocol, TC hated protocol for this very reason. Did no one even think to look at the full charts anymore?

“You!” TC looked up to see the blonde from early glaring at him, “What the hell are you doing here?”

“I work here,” TC said. “You’re yelling at the wrong brother.”

The man’s jaw dropped as his eyes fell to the man in the bed who winced and turned on the bed, “Merlin… what’s wrong with him?”

“Nurse Diaz, please direct this man back to the waiting room and tell Dr. Clemmens to give him an update.”

She nodded and ran interference while TC got Merlin back into the OR. He was lucky that Drew was free enough to help work against the shock to Merlin’s system. TC was fast but he didn’t want to chance it without another set of eyes.

Gwaine wandered towards the front desk just as Arthur was directed back to the waiting room and his eyes widened.

“Princess?”

Arthur’s face flushed and he charged on him, “ _Gwaine._ ”

“Princess!” Gwaine greeted, “What a surprise! Where’s that gorgeous woman you’ve shackled to your side?”

“What the hell are you doing here?” He asked as Gwen found her way back to the front with a cup of coffee for each of them.

“Gwaine?”

“Gorgeous,” he greeted moving to remove the cups from her hands, set them aside, and hug her tightly. She laughed incredulously, “Good to see that nothing has changed. Are you aggravating my husband?”

“Just teasing a bit,” he said with a wink. “What brings you two to San Antonio? Not exactly a vacation spot worthy of you in a bikini.”

Gwen snorted, “Business, Gwaine. You?”

“Family,” he said. “My brother works in this hospital.”

“Can he be trusted or is he as much of a vagabond as you?”

Gwaine looked at him strangely, “Have you seen him? Of course he’s an equal class vagabond, but his gift with medicine is more than trust worthy. Why do you ask that?”

“He just wheeled Merlin out of his room and back towards an OR.”

Gwaine’s eyes widened, his mouth open. Merlin was hurt? Merlin was here?

“Gwaine?” Gwen asked, tapping his shoulder.

But Gwaine didn’t hear her, moving to grab Topher who greeted him kindly.

“I need to know where I can see into the OR TC is in right now.”

He frowned, but nodded his head and proceeded to lead him towards the observation room. He couldn’t see much, but saw TC and Drew in those surgical robes he hated and Merlin’s pale face. Eyes closed, beneath a breathing mask, his EKG beeping along steadily. There was a blood bag and IV hung together above his head. They were doing something, but the person on the table was definitely Merlin.

“You know the guy?”

“Yeah,” Gwaine said thickly. “I do… and I’m not worried for him.”

“Yeah? Strong constitution.”

“TC’s a genius,” he said honestly. “I just… didn’t expect this to be the way I see him again.”

He takes a deep breath, assured that no matter what has happened, Merlin will be fine before thanking Topher and heading back to tell Arthur and Gwen that Merlin will be fine.

“How can you say that?”

“My brother’s a genius.”

While Arthur had the nerve to look skeptical, Gwen offered Gwaine a cup of coffee and asked how he’d been. It’s another hour before the OR light goes off and TC leads the movement of Merlin back into his room with the proper stitches and pain meds. Scott hasn’t appeared from his meeting, but that doesn’t matter as TC tells Diaz that they can actually come back to Merlin’s room and wait for Scott.

He adds his Operation Notes to Merlin’s file with a sigh.

“Hey,” Halle said from his left. “You alright?”

TC nodded, “Just bracing myself for the yelling.”

Halle nodded and pat his shoulder, “Don’t be afraid to go for the jugular—superheroes are human too.”

He grinned at that and nodded, thanking her before she moved to start on her rounds. She was three stops in before she ended up at Merlin’s room to see Arthur, Gwen, and Gwaine sitting at his bedside Gwaine has that grim look, so tense and refusing to look at her, but staring at Merlin’s face. It was the sort of stare that said _wake up, wake up, wake up…_

So this was Gwaine… Wearing TC’s clothing, it’s rather rare for twins to be perfectly identical, but not unheard of. He has that same sort of quiet intensity that makes her feel like he’s seconds away from bursting in a million different directions.

Arthur is standing asking her questions almost immediately and she takes in his anxiety and shock with a calm eye before smiling.

“Dr. Clemmens is tied up at the moment, but as soon as he’s free, he’ll be in to give you an update on Mr. Emrys’s status and the extent of his injuries. At the moment, I can only tell you that he is currently stable. He’s on amphetamine for the pain and Kelflex for any possible infections. We’ll be monitoring him closely until he wakes up and we can speak with him.”

Something about what she’s telling him makes the anxiety fade a little, maybe it’s her voice and the steady beep of the EKG, but Gwen thinks it’s the steadiness and sureness of her voice. This nurse wasn’t just out of training, but experience and capable and used to dealing with Arthur’s brand of anxiety.

“Thank you…” he said softly.

She smiled, “We’ll do everything we can to make sure he goes home healthy. If you all need anything, there’s the cafeteria down the hallway.”

He nodded and took a seat as Halle documented his status. The anaphylactics had been administered in time to stop the swelling of his throat and even the rash was apparently clearing up. Gwaine stood moments later and followed her out the door to stop her in the hallway.

“Thank you,” he told her. “For handling Arthur like that. He’s enough to make anyone crazy.”

She grinned, “I didn’t say that for him.”

He frowned, “Oh?”

She nodded, “He was anxious, yes, but you were the one practically vibrating in your seat.”

Gwaine’s eyes widen and she grinned at him, “You and your twin have the same tells.”

It’s a slow rougish smile, “You must be the smoking hot nurse TC’s told me about.”

She laughed and offered her hand, “And you must be the face-stealer. Halle Martin, nice to meet you.”

“Gwaine,” he grinned. “And TC is actually the face-stealer. He was right.”

“About?”

“You are smoking hot and absolutely worth the sexual harassment charges.”

She shook her head, “And you’re equally as ridiculous. Take a deep breath, I’m sure TC will step in to reassure you soon enough.”

He nodded and thanked her watching her continue down the hall. Smoking hot was right, like a blast from their adolescent pasts with more curve and confidence.

A dirty blonde haired man came in and introduced himself as Dr. Clemmens, the operating physician and that Merlin should be fine. He’d lost a lot of blood, but would pull through. The fact that he wasn’t awake at the moment was more than likely a symptom of exhaustion.

“Another doctor wheeled him back to the OR, could you tell me what that was about?”

Scott didn’t have to be told who it was to know. Gwaine watched in interest as the man smiled and told Arthur that it may have been for a follow-up after he was a little more stable and there was more blood in his system.

“Is he fixed?” Arthur asked. “I need him fixed. How long until he wakes up?”

“ _Oh look…he’s admitting it._ ” A groggy voice started, gaining everyone’s attention. Scott moved closer into Merlin’s line of vision. “Not exactly how I expected him to, but it’s the dollop head so I can’t expect much.”

“I’m still your employer Merlin,” Arthur grit out as Scott began asking questions about what he remembered from the crash and not at all surprised at being told that TC had been there when he woke up earlier. He told the man to get some rest and that he would be back in a few hours to check and see how he was coming along. Gwaine let the man go past, gleefully unnoticed, before entering the room with a deep breath.


	10. Crosswalks and Crossed Hearts And Hope-To-Dies,

When Merlin sees him, he’s not sure what he’s going to say, not sure if there’s anything to say. Then and now mixing together into a moment that makes him breathless and he remembers burying the man centuries ago. He remembers saying hello in graduate school, saying I love you, saying goodbye at the airport, his hands shaking as Gwaine, carded a hand through his hair and kissed him like he would never come back and it would be his last time. The last time… it had been.

_I love you._

_Soon._

_I need time._

_I love you._

_Always back to you…_

“I met… TC.”

Arthur looked at Gwaine and then to Merlin before Gwen grabbed his arm and dragged him out of the room, excusing them despite Arthur’s protective protests. Gwaine closed the door behind them and walked around the bedside to sit on the bed beside him and take his hand.

“Was he everything you expected?”

He snorted, “Didn’t talk to him really.”

“Good. Just know I’m the cooler twin.”

Merlin laughed and worried his lip, “He’s better in the case of injury.”

“Won’t contest that,” Gwaine said. “If there is anyone I’d trust your injuries with it would be him.”

Merlin nodded, “How have you been? Rougish?”

He nodded, “I’ve missed having cream to go with my tea.”

“Next time don’t leave the cream in London.”

Gwaine looked at him, “Are you giving me license to take you with me anywhere?”

“I’m giving you license to travel and use modern technology more often.”

Gwaine hummed a bit, leaning forward to kiss his forehead, “How are you feeling?”

“Better,” he said looking at the cast on his left arm, “Not hot and my throat isn’t tingling anymore…. Still in pain…”

“If I could kiss it better I would.”

“I’m sure.”

TC pokes his head in and Merlin’s mind is blown because it wasn’t just a figment of his trauma… they really are identical. Gwaine’s hair is a bit longer and TC is a little less shaven, but that’s about it. He wonders if Gwaine had a brother back then too, but he didn’t think so.

“What are you all doing in San Antonio anyway?” Gwaine asked, kissing his temple.

“Camelot is expanding to the US. Wants to set up base in San Antonio.”

Gwaine kissed his cheek, “I see…I’ll have to introduce you to my Mom.”

Merlin hummed, “Don’t try and use me to get yourself out of trouble.”

“You know me so well,” Gwaine grinned, pressing a kiss to his lips and groaning. “Still as creamy as ever.”

“At least have a proper taste, you tease.”

He grinned and made sure to do his worst, tongue and pressure, teasing and all the words that should have been said the last time they’d seen one another, the last time he’d held Merlin.

_I need time._

_I love you._

_Soon._

_I love you._

_Always back to you._

“How is it that you’re in Texas and still so creamy…” Gwaine asked staring at him and pressing dark strands out of his face.

“Magic.”

Gwaine laughed as TC grinned, “Mom is going to be so upset with you.”

“Yeah but I have interference and unless you’re bringing your smoking hot nurse to Christmas, you’ll be on the fire and I won’t.”

He snorted and turned to leave them alone before stepping out into the hallway.

“TC.”

_No…_

He took a deep breath and turned to look at Scott and Jordan coming down the hall from the other direction.

_Double No._

“What can I do for you?” He asked, forcing his hands into his pocket and making himself relax into a neutral, open posture.

“You can stay away from my patients,” Scott said. “Who gave you the right to step in on another doctor’s patient?”

“You were in a meeting with Ragosa and the situation didn’t—“

“So come get me,” Scott cut in. “You don’t just take over another doctor’s patient and then don’t notify them of what you’ve done.”

“What’s going on?” Jordan asked looking between the two.

“Dr. Callahan, as usual, refuses to follow protocol.”

“Guilty as charged,” TC said holding up his hands in surrender. “I’m terribly sorry for ignoring protocol, Dr. Clemmens.”

Jordan looks at TC a little shocked, it’s his tone. There’s no sarcasm, no condescension, no smugness, just a surrender and backing away. Normally, TC would have had something far more confrontational to say even if he knew he was on the wrong side of a losing battle.

“What happened?”

“Dr. Callahan has performed an operation on one of my patients without consulting me. More than that he didn’t update me on the procedure done.”

“TC?” Jordan asked looking at him. “Is that true?”

“Yes,” he said and nodded. “It is. I did what needed to be done. Updated the patient’s sheets in the tablet at the front desk and added a slip-sheet to his charts. I hadn’t seen Dr. Clemmens, thus had no chance to notify him directly. It was my fault.”

Scott stared at TC somewhere in between a loss for words because there’s a sort of placid disinterest in TC’s eyes that contradicts the polite expression he’s wearing. Nurse Diaz walked by and TC took Scott’s time to ask her what she needed as his cue to be dismissed.

“Dr. Callahan asked me to get you for Mr. Emrys. He was allergic to the stitches, the antibiotics, and the painkillers you prescribed, but you were busy so Dr. Callahan handled it. It was in the electronic docs and on the charts.”

“What? That wasn’t on his charts before the procedure.”

Nurse Diaz offered up the charts to him and flipped through to find the space for allergies filled in with TC’s handwriting and a note “per medical bracelet in EMT’s note” signed and dated. He closed the file without looking at Jordan. It’s written with no bite, but Scott can hear it in TC’s voice with that smug smile and it makes his blood boil to have to admit that TC’s, usual disregard for protocol, has turned out to have its uses. He didn’t read patients charts before surgery, that was what the perioperative sheet was for.

“What?”

Jordan looked up to see Arthur at the end of the hall with Gwen.

“Dr. Clemmens,” Arthur started, “Is what she said correct?”

Jordan swallowed thickly and saw a very bleak day in her future.

“Yes,” he replied. “What she’s said is correct.”

“How was this missed? He’s wearing a medical bracelet for a reason. And, while he was in the OR, Guinevere notified a nurse that he was wearing a medical bracelet.”

“It would seem that when the patient was received, the nurse who prepped the OR didn’t detail it in the information on perioperative sheet. Had the operating team known, there would have been no need for a follow-up operation and we’re terribly sorry for the oversight.”

 “Oversight?” Arthur asked. “An _oversight_?”

“Arthur,” Gwen started. “Arthur….”

She tapped him, “Sweetheart, Merlin is going to be just fine. Breathe.”

He let out a breath.

“Instead of arguing about thing that have already occurred, why don’t you find that nice doctor you were angry with earlier and thank him for saving Merlin’s life.”

Arthur swallowed, let out a breath and turned to do just that while Gwen offered a smile.

“He’s a bit high strung and protective. Merlin is his assistant and we’re pretty sure his life would implode without him.”

Scott nodded.

“And also his only friend,” she said with a smile. “I’m the only other person who can put up with him, except for that nice nurse who came in earlier. Thank you for your honesty.”

Jordan heard herself say something she’s been trained to say as the woman turned to enter Merlin’s room. Then, Ragosa showed up to say something to the woman and pull Scott and Jordan into an office. The blonde who’d been about to explode in the hall way was none other than Arthur Pendragon, heir to the Camelot Corporation that would be expanding to the United States and setting up their U.S. Headquarters in San Antonio. Whatever they did, Merlin Emrys was to make it out of this hospital alive and Arthur was to leave happy as the board was hoping to strike a deal for funding and new equipment for the hospital.

“That means that, on pain of death and unemployment, TC is not to be near him.”

Scott and Jordan trade a look, a wince and it’s Jordan who explains the situation from earlier while Scott remains silently seething and swallowing his pride.

“God help us,” Ragosa said shaking his head. “Someone talk to TC and stress the importance of this particular situation.”

They agree before adjourning the meeting. Ragosa manages to walk down the hall before seeing a familiar set of shoulders standing by the nurse’s station. There’s something different that Ragosa can’t place, but he brushes it off as his eyes being so tired. It’s TC without a doubt in a grey t-shirt and his normal dark wash jeans. While not in scrubs, he’d let that one battle go in favor of the more important… at least for now.

“TC,” he called out. “Let’s talk for a moment.”

The man turned looking at Ragosa and waiting as he composes his thoughts. There’s a wry smile on his lips that Ragosa tries not to let get under his skin.

Gwaine on the other hand takes in the shorter Hispanic man who’d called for his intention and shoved his phone in his pocket. From the look of him, and the fact that he was wearing

“TC,” he started. “First off, I’d like to say good work.”

“For…?”

“It seems that just this one your unwillingness to follow protocol has turned out to be beneficial to the hospital.” He said. “That being said I need you to be the best, protocol following, doctor you can be until Mr. Pendragon’s assistant is discharged from this hospital. We need him to leave as happy as possible.”

“You mean Princess?”

It takes everything in Gwaine not to laugh as Ragosa’s eyes grow exponentially wide. He can almost see the aneurism about to start as the man tries to keep from yelling. It’s telling. Apparently, he and TC had the sort of history that made the man explosive.

“What?”

“Princess, you know, about this tall, blonde hair, blue eyes, a little cranky?”

“Arthur Pendragon--“

“That’s the one,” he said with a nod. “What about him?”

Ragosa let out a breath, “I need you to make sure that his assistant leaves in the peak of health and he leaves happy with the care provided.”

He nods slowly, “That could be hard. He’s kind of picky. We’ve never really seen eye to eye.”

“You know him—“

“Gwaine!” Ragosa turned and thought he’d had a heart attack seeing another TC walk over and clap the TC he’d been talking to on the shoulder.

“What…?” Ragosa asked.

“’Sup, TC?”

“What are you doing?”

“Me and uh… guy in the suit were discussing the Princess.”

TC snorted, “Gwaine, this is Superintendent Ragosa. Ragosa, this is Gwaine, my brother.”

“Twin?”

“Yep,” they said together like a fucked up echo.

“God help us,” Ragosa let out a weary sigh.

“He was telling me that you should be a good boy and take care of Merlin,” he said. “And make sure Arthur’s happy.”

“The first I can do, I don’t know if any degree could manage the second.”

Gwaine nodded with understanding, “There aren’t enough letters in the world.”

As Ragosa stood staring at the two faces, two identical faces, talking to one another with identical voices, he didn’t notice the aforementioned C.O.O. walking up to them.

“Mr. Pendragon…”Ragosa started.

“Hi Princess,” the one in a t-shirt grinned.

Arthur looked between the two and narrowed his eyes, “Gwaine.”

He looked at TC then and offered a hand, “Thank you Dr. Callahan for proving yourself a competent doctor.”

“Was that supposed to be a compliment?” Gwaine asked as TC shook his hand with the best poker face Ragosa had ever seen. He was sure having his twin, say everything he was thinking was the only reason TC wasn’t saying it himself. “He’s a bit of failure at being social.”

“I only hope you continue to prove yourself a better professional than your brother.”

“I’m very professional,” he said. “When I’m on the clock, Princess. I also don’t do business with Camelot, so no need to be professional with you.”

Arthur only glared at Gwaine, withdrew his hand from TC’s and walked away.

“Why are there two of you?” Ragosa asked.

“There aren’t,” TC said. “Gwaine is Gwaine. And I am TC.”

“Or maybe, I’m TC and he’s Gwaine?”

“You never know.”

Ragosa looked between them, their identical wolfish grins and the sparkle in their eyes before promptly turning and looking for Landry to ask if she’d switched the Tylenol for ecstasy or some other hallucinogenic again. Gwaine and TC share a laugh before Gwaine moves to head back to Merlin’s room.

“Oh,” Gwaine started. “By the way, I met your smoking hot nurse… one Halle Martin.”

He grinned and nodded, “Was I right?”

“More than right. I’ll have to tell her that you have no idea what to do with all of that.”

“In your dreams.”

*

As most incidents like this begin, TC walks into the locker room after everyone is out to find Halle standing at her locker in what had to be the tamest set of underwear he’d ever seen her in. They only had lace paneling over her hips, the rest was solid black with neon butterflies fluttering across the half lace cups and the rest of her underwear.

“Butterflies,” he said. “Cute.”

She scoffed and rolled her eyes while continuing to get dressed. It’s been a long shift and at the moment all she wants to do is go home, eat, and crawl into bed. TC walked to his locker and began to change.

“Heading home?” Halle asked.

“Yeah, might shower here though.”

She turned looking at him strangely, “You have a multi-thousand dollar bathroom… Why are you showering here?”

“Didn’t buy soap.”

A laugh escapes her and she throws a box of soap at him. Some ultra-natural shea butter soap that’s handmade or something. He managed to catch it and look at it and not be surprised that she uses something like it.

“Avoid the fungus no doubt lurking in the communal shower here. Go home.”

“Is this how you keep yourself so soft?”

“It’s the genes.”

He snickered, pulled his scrubs off, tossing them over the bench and, before he can say anything, catches her looking at him. She’s dressed now, hands on her bag, but her eyes are raking over him. It’s rather thrilling in an odd sort of way. He can’t remember the last time a woman’s gaze actually made him want to blush. Maybe some instinctual part of him moves just enough to make him flex, maybe just a little bit more, delighting in the heat she looks at him with, the way her teeth close over her lush bottom lip and sinks into the flesh. It’s a heat he can’t explain and didn’t think he’d ever feel again, like a fever straight to his brain and a warm hand on his dick. He wants to get to the point that she moans softly, but knows that will take far longer than he can stand. Before the growing ache in his gut turns into something more than the half-erection that has started, he breaks the intense moment.

“You know…I could take off more.”

Her eyes jump from somewhere around his thighs to his grinning face. If she were lighter, he had no doubt she would be flushed, but as it stood she just ducked her head and continued to pack quickly.

His mother would have called him an utter charlatan for what he did next, but honestly he just believed in fulfilling people’s wishes and it wasn’t hard to figure out what Halle was wishing staring at him like that.

Halle shoved her things violently in her tote, no order thereby throwing off the usual organization of her tote and making it impossible to close, beating herself mentally as she worked to stack everything properly so it all fits. She hadn’t meant to look or see or _stare_ let alone molest him with her eyes, but it had happened. She was only human and given the number of times he’d seen her in her underwear, it was fair play…

Actually, they were still uneven and they would probably never be even given the number of times TC had smacked her ass, clothed or not, and said some things that should have gotten him written up if she wasn’t used to the locker room fun.

 _Sexual harassment is not always the quid prop quo,_ she can’t even laugh because his voice is a low rumble above her head.

“Halle.”

She froze, all activity stopped and her mind went quiet.

_Don’t look. Don’t look, Halle. Don’t do it._

It’s slow, her eyes moving to his bare legs, muscled and taut from running around all shift and then higher and higher until…

“TC!” She sits up fully, her eyes shut tightly and her hands fumble for her bag.

“So inappropriate!”

TC swallowed a laugh, placing his hands on his hips and relaxing oddly feeling lighter at being completely naked and watching her fumble without her sight to still pack up her things and leave. He isn’t standing that close, but it’s enough that she’s doing her best not to graze him. She manages to get her tote together, grab her purse and walk a whole step before running into the bench and tripping right into him.

Her tote on the ground, her purse there too and her in his arms, steadied by his hands on her shoulders.

“You know when I dreamed this… you were naked too.”

She opened one eye to glare menacingly at him as if seeing his face would insult her sensibilities somehow, “I will strangle you.”

“Blind? You might end up grabbing something else.”

Both eyes open now he grinned, fully aware that she could probably feel him pressing against her, half-hard now and enjoying her flustered state far too much.

“You’re…. despicable.”

“I know. It’s a gift.”

When she’s steady in her heels, she steps away from him, turns away and picks up her tote and purse.

“Like what you see?”

“Dunno,” she said. “Limp isn’t really my thing.”

He laughed then, “I’ll keep that in mind the next time.”

“There won’t be a next time!” She yelled marching out.

“That’s what you think.”

While not menacing, she felt it like a heated lick up her spine and hustled out of the locker room faster, hearing him laughing behind her. The bastard thought it was funny to exploit her sense of shame when he obviously didn’t have one. When Jayden asks her later about what made her so flustered, Halle isn’t sure how she manages to explain that TC stripped out of his underwear in the locker room and basically presented himself to her.

“Did you look?”

“Not on purpose…”

“But you were staring at him though weren’t you?”

“Maybe a bit, I’m only human.”

“Before or after the underwear came off?”

“Before.”

“And after?”

“Before.”

Jayden laughed, “What about after? And is it as good as I’ve heard? He hasn’t been getting shirtless recently.”

“Uh… I suppose.”

“You suppose? What about after? After Halle?”

She huffed and threw up her hands, “He tricked me!”

“Tricked you…. What’d you see?”

“Naked TC.”

“You got a peek at the… “

Halle shut her mouth and gave her a stiff nod, maybe too embarrassed and maybe still processing it all… because who the hell just stripped down and shamelessly put themselves on display like that?

TC did apparently.

“Well…. How was it?”

She groaned, “Jay….”

“Nope, I need details. You saw naked TC. _Naked_ TC… and he’s been hitting the gym more often…. Nope, details.”

Halle huffed and crossed her arms with a shake of her head. She was adorably embarrassed, but Jayden’s shame had died a peaceful death a long time ago… sometime after she’d developed a serious aversion to men who wore fades.

“You know I won’t stop asking right? Now, at work—“

Her eyes grew wide and the thought of Jayden asking while TC stood there beaming was just enough horror to make her talk because God knew the man would enjoy that far too much and she’d never live that down.

“Alright! He’s just…he’s hot.”

“Hot like burning or hot like pepper?”

“Ghost pepper burning.”

“Ooh…real chiseled?”

Halle hummed recalling the image… TC had definitely been hitting the gym… _hard_ , like he was training for a triathalon or something. Not that he’d been anywhere near sloppy before, but he’d gotten thinner with the lack of food intake and sleep… Now, he seemed determine to surpass his former glory and was doing well at it…

“Yeah… all over.”

Jayden hummed, “Well did you touch?”

“Not on purpose.”

“Uh huh, how was the dick?”

Halle covered her face and wondered what kind of friends did she have before answering, “Not sure. Wasn’t hard.”

“Well how was the limp version? Think he’s a grower?”

“I don’t know. That’s not something you can tell.”

“In your medical opinion, then?”

“You’re a fool.”

Jayden scoffed, “You’re holding out on me. I know you are. I know you know something.”

Halle groaned, “I tripped and fell into him and… I’m going to bet he’s a grower.”

“That’s my girl,” she said patting her shoulder. “I’ve taught you so well…. Now what’s this about not touching? E. Martin’s golden rule dictates that if a man gets naked, you have the right to touch…”

“Unless they’re strippers, yes, I know,” Halle said, rolling her eyes.

“She’d drag you back there and make you redo this whole event.”

Halle laughed, looking up at the ceiling, relaxing against the back of her couch with a sigh. Yes, Evelyn Martin would, but not before ascertaining their relationship and demand that she get a straight answer from the man. She missed her and it was times like this that made the absence of her mother ache in a sweet way.

“She would also say that you two need to quit fucking around and just say you’re dating…. And get down to business, in no specific order.”

“We’re not—”

“Dinner,” she started. “Breakfast, lunch, snack, breaks, naps…cuddles. _I could go on._ ”

Halle scoffed, “E. Martin also said that until you get a title it means nothing. And _snuggles._ ”

“She also said don’t be afraid to ask for one if you want it.”

“I never said I wanted it.”

“I can see it in your eyes,” she quipped and Halle threw up her hands.

“I’m going to sleep.”

“Dream of delicious medically brilliant six pack owners who go by initials.”

“Eight pack,” Halle corrected before shutting her bedroom door and ignoring Jayden’s laughter.

“My bad! I didn’t mean to insult your boo-thang.”

*

TC is off the day it happens. Halle walks into the nurse’s break room and sees it, printed in that magazine glossy paper. The nurses are huddled together looking at it. He looks younger, maybe by five or six years, Halle would have guessed, but there’s no mistaking that face, artfully scruffy, wind-tossed hair, lounging and soaking wet and oiled in a pair of Calvin Klein underwear. There’s a fragrance inserted on the page as well and the nurses are debating.

“You think it’s him?”

“It certainly looks like him.”

“Could be his brother?”

“Maybe…”

Halle laughed, drawing their attention, “What’s so funny?”

“It just explains… so much.”

His complete lack of modesty for one-- modesty was for people who didn’t model underwear. And all the swaggering confidence he held, just short of arrogance because he never seemed to take himself as seriously as his words implied.

“What? You think it’s Dr. Callahan.”

She nodded as Jayden peeked and looked back at Halle with that look that said _you’re holding out on me_. Halle expects that there will be interrogation time later, but for now, she snags a still hot cheese, egg, and steak bagel off the table and wanders out.

The next day, when TC has returned, Kenny grabs him and pulls him into the weight room where the other male nurses and a few doctors are waiting… maybe to jump him, he isn’t sure. Awareness prickles at the back of his neck counting them. He’s had worse odds, but he hadn’t liked the outcome of that time and as they would be the one to patch him up after beating the hell out of him, he didn’t really need to think about that.

“Hi…”

“This is some shit you tells us.”

“What?”

Paul thrusts a magazine forward, opened to a specific page. He smiled almost fondly. He looked like a baby in the picture… that was before the army, in the middle of med school… he remembered actually falling asleep in the middle of the shoot and how the photographer said it was absolutely perfect.

“I didn’t know people still had these…God I look like a baby…”

“That’s all you have to say?”

He shrugged and closed the magazine, “I… had to pay for med school?”

Kenny shakes his head knowing that it was practically a lost cause.

Topher and Drew have a very odd run in with the nurses, huddled around something and whispering. Drew, luckily, is tall enough to see what it is and almost chokes….because it’s TC in an almost side profile in the tightest pair of Calvin Klein briefs he’s ever seen that hug the curve of his ass and accentuate the outline of his underwear…. It explained so much and maybe made Drew reconsider their friendship and brother-ship… because how the hell was he going to look him in the eye ever again? He knew what direction TC tucked now and given the way his relationship with Rick was going, he was pretty sure that his unconscious wouldn’t draw the line between friend/brother and potential bed partner with TC.

He’d been doing so well since they were kids… The bastard had told him he’d done modeling to pay for medical school, but didn’t tell him who for… or rather Drew didn’t allow him to tell him as it would be too much for Drew not to go looking. He avoided all sense of male fashion anything for years to avoid that.

_Damn him._

“You think they airbrushed that?”

“They didn’t,” Topher assured, earning their attention. They turned around. “Drew?”

He shook his head, “Nope, not commenting.”

“How would you know?”  One of them asked, not understanding how awkward this conversation could be for a married man with kids.

“Been almost naked around him enough to know,” Topher said with a sigh. “Hoped that this wouldn’t get out.”

“You knew?”

And Drew knows for certain that this isn’t going to die down any time soon because when the nurses got a hold of something this juicy, they didn’t let it go until there was something juicier to be had.  TC with his reputation was probably the juiciest piece of gossip that would be had for months… short of someone on staff getting someone on staff pregnant.

*

When Halle gets in the next day, TC is in the locker room. Their eyes meet with him hunched over and stepping out of his jeans.

“Hi…”

TC blinked and pulled his jeans off, “I’m hard this time… if you’d like to take a look.”

Halle promptly turned around and left the locker room. She was early, changing into her scrubs a little later wouldn’t kill her.

“Are you leaving?”

“I am not humoring you!”

TC chuckled and slid into his scrub pants, wishing that he’d been lying about it. Unfortunately, the image of Halle in that emerald green set that was more sheer than lace had been in his mind since he woke up and the hard on he had in the morning refused to be ignored.

Riding his bike had been a difficult feat. When he emerges, Halle is waiting outside and before he can say anything Jordan is calling his name and asking if he’d gotten around to reading the article she’d asked him to read and critique. He very obviously missed his opportunity to tease Halle while explaining to Jordan that the article focused more on statistics than actual procedures, it wouldn’t help her develop a training schedule.

Halle managed to slip into and out of the locker room like a magenta wearing ninja as Jordan asked him how the new schedule was working for him.

“Not much different than the old one,” he said with a shrug. “I didn’t even realize that there was a different schedule.”

Jordan frowned at that, “What do you mean you didn’t notice?”

“I work the same number of hours a week.”

“But you haven’t been here and you weren’t scheduled to.”

“I go home now,” he said. “And schedules mean nothing when someone says they need you or calls you in.”

Ragosa was going to murder her for the sheer amount of overtime that all the doctors worked if that was the case.

“Surely, there are other doctors that can handle those situations. I’ll talk to Scott about it.”

TC shrugged, “Do what you think is right.”

“TC,” Jordan said stopping him before he walked off. “Are you… How are you?”

TC tilted his head and gave her a wry smile, “Fine.”

Jordan isn’t sure how to take that word, but nods and lets him carry on. There’s something that’s changed about him, though she can’t exactly pinpoint what it is, but she can’t worry about that now. She has time sheets to review and reconcile, approve, and adjust. A schedule to create for the half week that TC would be out…

She frowned, thinking about that. He’d be gone for the first half of the week leading up to Christmas. He was only one doctor. Why… would she have thought that the schedule would change so drastically?

 _Because it was TC_ …

She swallowed, she wasn’t a fool. While Scott was well-trained and fully capable, he didn’t have the split-second reaction time TC had, nor the capacity to learn it either.  TC understood the rhythm of the night shift team and could inspire them to greatness. Scott was like her in so many ways, the way TC used to be: regimented, by the book, doers. Scott stepped along to the beat that was prescribed for him, toed the line… So did Jordan. And sometimes that meant closing your eyes to what needed to be done, what should be done…She’d been practicing that tight rope act with TC, with the hospital, with everything for months and it didn’t look like she’d really figured out an answer.

Assuming that nothing incredibly insane happened in the few days TC was gone, it wouldn’t be so bad. Jordan was dizzy with the amount of PTO and vacation the man had wracked up and if he decided to take it all, if the board found that he needed to take it all… they’d be screwed. Medically speaking… TC was trauma medicine incarnate and it had nothing to do with his comradery with the staff or anything like that, but everything to do with the way TC’s mind worked. The way it had always worked: seeming too much, retaining far more, and slowing down for no one.

“TC’s such a badass,” Paul said walking with Krista. “It’s really nice to know that someone who graduated from a lower tier med school can still be so awesome.”

Jordan frowned and watched them go. TC had graduated at the top of his class from John Hopkins, what on earth was Paul talking about?

“He went where? I’ve never even heard of that school.”

“It’s super tiny, really obscure….”

Did… they think…

Jordan turned walking quickly towards HR. Jen looked up at her.

“I need to know the alma maters of our doctors. I’m putting together something for them.”

Jamie shrugged and printed off the list. Jordan thanked her and left scanning through the list to find his last name and sure enough John Hopkins was not there, but the name of a school she’d never even heard of in Glen Head, New York.  No one knew?

She found him later, stopping him in the break room before he left, carrying a thermos. The oddity of it didn’t even phase her… TC carrying a thermos--

“Why does everyone think that you graduated from some tiny university in the middle of Glen Head, New York?”

“Cause I did…” he said.

Her eyes narrowed, “Don’t give me that TC. What the hell? “

“If I wanted people to know, I would have told them,” he said with a smile. “So keep it close to the chest.”

Jordan watched him go, confused beyond belief. Didn’t he see how much more respect he’d get if they knew? How much easier his life would be here if everyone—Scott, Ragosa, the administration, other doctors… How much _easier_ it would be? Why was he doing this of all things?

“Hey Jordan,” Drew greeted coming in. “Taking a breather?”

“Why does no one know about TC?”

“Cause it doesn’t matter,” Drew replied easily, pouring a cup of coffee.

“What do you mean it doesn’t matter?” Jordan asked. “Thousands of people have wanted—”

“It doesn’t matter,” Drew told her turning around. “There’s no point in being treated well and still hated, or hated for different reasons, because you went to a certain school.”

She grit her teeth, but it would be so much _easier_. Sure, Ragosa wouldn’t like him, but he’d be damned before letting a John Hopkins graduate leave the hospital.  The sort of pull that degree had was pretty much undeniable, especially if the board ever got to a point where they would start a research program. TC’s heart and soul had been research while at John Hopkins. It made no sense.

“And it’s not your place to tell anyone,” Drew said over the edge of his cup.

Her jaw tensed and she left, marching out the front doors of the hospital to just take a deep breath and try to wrap her mind around it all. It all made sense now. Why Scott hated him so much, why Ragosa wouldn’t understand… yet everyone else did because they didn’t care where he went school, only that he was there and doing everything he could…

God…

_Why are you doing this TC?_

But she couldn’t ask that and Drew was right, it wasn’t her place to tell anyone. Whether for pride or some misplaced sense of self-punishment for whatever happened in Afghanistan…

Crazy, she decided. He’d just lost his mind.

But no, that was too easy. TC’s mind was a the sort of inane-looking puzzle you either passed up or picked up in a toy shop expecting it to be easy and then spending years trying to figure it out and never getting anywhere. There were too many connections, too many portals to jump through, too many pitfalls and too much darkness.

She didn’t have a clue and wasn’t in the position to glean one either.

*

“Why’d you leave? I worked up to that for you.”

Halle looked up seeing TC leaning against the row of lockers with a grin. He had his thermos in his hand that read: _Keep Calm And Save Lives._ She smiled, happy that she was using her birthday gift to him… though the man had tried to hide the date to the bitter end until she randomnly picked a day in September to give him a mug and thermos that had been practically made for him and finally weaseled it out of him that it was in April.

She shook he head, “I am not humoring you.”

He pouted at her as she began to pack her tote and free her hair of the braid she kept it in. The twists gleamed with the overhead light a bit red like she’d dyed it.

“I don’t want you to think that I don’t rise to the occasion in the morning… it just usually goes down in the shower.”

She went back to packing, “Still not humoring you.”

“Your hair is red now…” he said tilting his head and walking towards his locker, to slide out of his scrubs and into his normal clothing.

“Henna,” she said closing her locker. “I could tint your hair too if you’d like.”

He snorted, putting his bag on his shoulder and following her towards the exit, “No thanks. I’ll leave all that sexy fire to you.”

Jayden’s there finishing off her hand off when they walk down the hall. They’re supposed to be catching breakfast with Drew and Paul at the local diner before going their separate ways. It’s all fun and games until someone slips in the kitchen and ends up with a knife slicing through their side.

It takes all of a few minutes to calm the panic and get the man off the floor and on to the prep table. Someone has called the paramedics, but their working at it as if they’re in the middle of the OR. TC’s bag has at least half an operating table in it in sterilizing bags. Drew recognizes the tiny crests and the word “Callahan” on the handles as he opened the bags. Halle has half a first-aid kid and the rest of it comes from the emergency kit of the restaurant. Someone ran to grab a few shots of vodka for the pain as everyone slides into gloves and the race is on to check for further injury, staunch the bleeding, and stabilize the man.

When the EMTs arrive, they aren’t sure what to do because the man is asleep on the table with stitches in his side, gauze over the wound and his co-worker is thanking them for perhaps saving his life. They take the man away on the stretcher and they’re sure that they’ll end up on YouTube before the end of the day but that doesn’t matter.

“That was… a rush.” Paul said, eyes still bright with adrenaline.

“You did good kid. Now let’s actually eat.”

The waitress tells them it’s on the house and somehow they get out before too much attention is drawn.

Their assumption is right as they end up on the local news, someone’s camera phone recording of them. The man doesn’t end up at San Antonio Memorial, but the hospital gets a call about them as someone in the hospital recognizes Drew.

It’s yet another thing to add to the rumor mill of the hospital along with a clipping of the next day’s newspaper in both the doctor and nurse’s break rooms.


	11. The War Is Won Before It's Begun

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I've changed the author as this is mostly "gross-sobbing" and "angst-cake" that only I (badluckvixen13) could be responsible for. I absolve alteringviews of all relation to this particular chapter...
> 
> Lots of time, Christmas, DrewxAlister-centric angst and brotherly love

Thanksgiving passed in a storm of a ridiculous amount of food and before anyone realizes it, it’s the week before Christmas. There’s been an agreement to exchange gifts as the mysterious faeries who provide food, really good coffee, and holiday decorations have put a small Christmas tree in the break rooms and a larger one in the waiting room. There are just enough lights and cheer over the sound of the holiday music that plays almost non-stop through the hospital.

The kids love it as the nurses have organized themselves to deliver the small bits of cheer to the kids in ICU and the rest of the pediatric ward. TC left Thursday and wouldn’t be back until the next week. The next shift turned out to be a nightmare of epic proportions, being down one doctor had been as much as a disaster as Jordan feared. While Scott was good in the operating room, the chaos of the people flooding the ER from black ice accident is enough to drive him into a corner trying to manage the organization and being in and out of the OR. With everyone of the ER personnel moving one-step faster than chaos, he looked completely lost man, yelling orders that came too late.

With everyone pitching in and working double time to get everyone in, it was no surprise that someone called TC hoping that he’d pick up like he normally did on his days of, willing and able to help.

“This is TC,” he greeted Molly, stepping outside to take the call.

“TC, please tell me you’re in state.”

“I could… but I’d be lying.” He said glancing down the snow covered street outside the lobby doors of the hotel.

Hell, he wasn’t even in country…The chill of Ireland was sneaking into his jacket and he shivered a little bit.

“Fuck,” she deadpanned, but rattled off patient information and almost collapsed with relief when she directed him to get Topher and Drew with the instruction of a “north edge”, whatever the hell that was. Drew and Topher seemed to understand it was just one more life that they wouldn’t have to worry about.

TC winced looking at his phone as he shoved it in his pocket and shook his head before heading back in to the gathering. He knew they’d be fine if they just kept focus and pulled together… At least he hoped it wouldn’t be a total shit storm when he got back.

In the end, there just weren’t enough surgeons, not enough hands, and not enough nurses to maintain protocol or tablets or any semblance of order. All tablets were traded for cellphones that could record pertinent information as people rushed down the hall. Halle walked Krista and Paul through several operations and ended up doing more surgical work than she was necessarily degreed for--something that the CNO wasn’t happy about and got into it with Jordan about.

“She’s an NPR stop using my nurses to fill your half staffed ER.”

“She’s also a surgical assistant under the Trauma department.”

In the end, Halle hears it from both of them about how she couldn’t do both, couldn’t and shouldn’t step in to procedures, couldn’t and shouldn’t pitch in to get one more person off the operating table alive. When she tells them both that she’s _both_ and therefore doing her job by doing both, they seem to come to the conclusion to load her with duties from both sides and expect her to get it all done.

Jayden watches Halle get more and more agitated, stressed out and angry over the week. She’s in such a zone that she looks like she’s on the war path to get through everything in record time, pleasing everyone involved and still managing to lighten the burden on the remaining physicians with TC gone. Ragosa has the nerve to smile seeing that there’s no way that protocol could not be followed and on paper with TC gone.

“It’s going to be a fairly good week,” he said with a smug smile.

Halle wants to punch him in the face, she can’t even take a break with the amount of work she has to do and be on call for surgery and work the night shift. She’s about three seconds away from snapping when she announces that she’s taking her lunch break right then, going to work out, take a thirty minute nap, and come back not fuming.

“If the CNO or Jordan are looking for me, tell them that.”

Jayden nodded and checks her watch. It’s almost the beginning of the night shift when TC comes in, a backpack over his shoulder, wearing a blazer, a fitted t-shirt, slacks, and surprisingly nice shoes. His hair is combed and he’s sporting an actual five o’clock shadow.

“You’d better not have gone to interview anywhere.”

He laughed stopping at the desk, “No.”

“Your vacation did you good?” Jayden greeted as he came to the nurse’s station. “Coming back looking like that?”

“Hardly a vacation,” he said with a grin. “But it was great. I hear things got a little crazy?”

She nodded, “A little more than just crazy… CNO and Jordan are at war.”

He winced, “How’s Kenny? Halle?”

She shook her head, “Kenny’s getting a little bit, but Halle’s getting the brunt of it. You know the CNO doesn’t like her… at all.”

“CNO doesn’t like anyone. She here?”

“In the gym, if not asleep.”

He nodded, thanked her and headed to the locker room to change and emerge somewhat refreshed. Drew caught him filling up his thermos in the break room and eating before break. He groaned.

“So hungry,” he said. “I didn’t even get a chance to eat lunch…”

Drew nodded, “Good trip?”

TC nodded and the door opened, Scott came in pouring a cup of coffee for himself as Jordan walked in behind him. They were silent, avoiding acknowledging each other, or TC, or Drew. It’s incredibly awkward as he drinks and takes a deep breath. When they leave, TC looks at Drew with a raised eyebrow.

“They lost three patients while you were gone.” TC nodded slowly, “It’s been tense for the last week or so.”

When Halle comes in, she greets them both, voice dripping with sweetness that doesn’t reach her eyes.

“Welcome back, TC. Afternoon, Drew.”

TC watched her walk to the snack table and reach for a chocolate muffin, make herself minty dark hot chocolate with more cream and marshmallows than he was sure was supposed to fit in her thermos. She doesn’t even get far before he’s cutting her off, an arm around her waist and pulling her to stand in front of him.

“You alright, Hal’?”

She smiled, tight and bright before shaking her head, “Not at all.”

“Thought you were asleep…”

She shook her head, “Didn’t even get to finish my workout apparently there is very little honor among nurses.”

He snorted, “Care for a hug?”

She sighed but let him pull her close and sigh into her hair, “I could trip her down the stairs.”

“Let’s not have you develop a hero complex,” she said. “CNO will deal.”

He laughed and kissed her forehead, “Don’t let them drive you crazy.”

“You’ll see,” she said sagely. “I’m tempted to tell you to never take time off again or tell you to run away while you can.”

He laughed, “Darling you could ask me for anything… except my spleen.”

Halle laughed and nudged him before drawing back, “I see where your priorities lie.”

TC only grinned at her, cupping her cheek, happy to see her smiling for real. From their conversations while he was away, her siblings are causing a bit of undue stress for a myriad of reasons.  

“There’s that pretty smile,” he said with a nod. “Now, go out and conquer the nursing world.”

She hops and assumes her favorite superhero pose. She looks so serious that he almost imagines a cape billowing behind her.

“I must away dear citizen, I am on a mission.”

TC grinned as she lifted an arm and engaged in blowing wind through her teeth like the billowing wind as she all but glides to the door.

Wait…

“Are you wearing skates?” TC asked almost incredulously.

“Heelys,” she corrected. “They were a gift and make me laugh.”

With good reason, because it’s almost absurd to see Halle literally gliding around the hospital, but she does. HR would probably have a field day, as would Ragose, quoting the hazard of having them on. Eventually, he convinces her to take advantage of a sheet and glide through the pediatric ICU while doing rounds. It’s just a moment of levity before the storm begins yet again. TC isn’t having a much better day with Scott looking over his shoulder, watching his every move and decidedly getting under his skin in every way he can, but TC ignores him firmly and does his job.

When Jordan asks where he went for the days he was off, he tells her “Away.” And leaves it at that. When Scott asks, he tells him “Away.” Scott narrowed her eyes.

“It must be nice to be able to be paid to slack off,” he said and TC only grins at him, holding the comment he wants to make between his teeth and throat with a ruthlessness that astounds him. He’s grown up it seemed, because he recognizes this as Scott baiting him. Whatever happened between him and Jordan, in the hospital, was making Scott itch for a fight and TC isn’t sure if it with him specifically or just in general.

He turned, walking away and maintains that smile through the shift and into the next. He takes whatever Ragosa and Scott throw at him, gives Jordan her update and accepts the fact that she “expected him to be done with the audit by now” and has something else she needs him to do that really should fall on Scott’s desk, but he takes it and adds it to the stack on his desk. He doesn’t complain, he doesn’t say anything but work the full shift without breaks and gets ready to go.

When the head of ER asks him to be on-call for the day shift, he doesn’t refuse, like always. He goes home to shower, get a change of clothes, eat and pack something to eat. When he gets on his bike to head back, his thermos full and warm, he hears the telltale beep of his phone and texts back that he’s on his way back.

When he arrives, it’s a madhouse and it doesn’t take much to realize that Halle is there too, looking as if she could use more sleep, but directing people to triage rooms, scrub cap on. EMTs are pouring in with people from a transportation truck accident on the highway. People are screaming in agony with gasoline burns of varying degrees.

He thinks it’s ironic that he was supposed to be on-call but it just feels like a double. He and Halle are in surgery together and it’s the first time he realizes why she’s in such high demand. Not that he didn’t know she was brilliant, but her skill and judgement is obviously top-notch. He wouldn’t be surprised if she’d taken most of the classes required for an MD and just stuck with nursing. It’s one of the smoothest surgeries he’s ever been in as she offers a suggestion for avoiding the ultimate hardening of the skin. A tad unorthodox, but effective. The patient is able to breathe without the skin cracking and opening wounds again.

“Awesome job,” The Head of ER, an almost faceless man as TC rarely sees him since he’s exclusively on the day shift, tells them. “I think we’ve got it from here on, why don’t you two get some sleep?”

Halle shuffles to the nurse’s station to turn check-in. The woman at the desk tells her to go get some sleep since she’s on duty that night anyway. Halle thanks her and shuffles off. TC follows shortly behind and there’s no banter between them, no real words. She doesn’t squirm when he curls up to her, arm around her waist, body pressed behind her and she sets an alarm to fifteen minutes before the beginning of the night shift.  

Sleep is peaceful, deep and the slow tinkling sound guides her out of sleep rather than yanks her out. She reaches for the phone and groans. She’s slept for four hours and while it’s better than nothing, it isn’t what she would have preferred. She gasped feeling something pressing up against her ass, insistent, hard and calling something in her that she’d forgotten was possible. Her thighs trembled, pressing together as he groaned and pulled her back against him, arms trapping her there. Bands of steel around her waist and heat against her back.

“ _Halle,_ ” he moaned against her neck, making her shiver. “Stop wiggling.”

There was something like a whimper from her and that made TC open his eyes as she moved again, pressing the swell of her ass against him and earning a low hiss at the spike of pleasure and pressure through him.

“ _Halle_ ,” he said more insistent, closing a hand around her bicep holding her still. “Quit wiggling.”

“Can’t,” she breathed through the firm grip. It’s making her head fuzzy, a dangerous space that she can’t afford to go into right now. “Gotta get up.”

He groaned, pulling her back, “ _Warm. Stay._ ”

She shook her head, dangerous. Way too dangerous. She’s too high strung for this, not enough sleep, not enough defenses. Just the firmness of his grip is sending her floating. His hands slide over her stomach, it’s an innocent sleepy movement but the graze of skin feels like a shock through her and he freezes, maybe because he isn’t expecting it, maybe because he felt the shock too.

“ _Halle_ ,” he said, a low rumble against her shoulder. She can feel his lips moving as he speaks, the heat of his breath pronouncing her name.

“ _Halle._ ”

“Ten,” Halle tells him. “Ten minutes till shift.”

He groaned, “Fuck...”

She had to be more tired than she thought as she continued to wiggle against him, clouding his judgement as he pulls her firmly against him.

“Ten minutes?” TC asked.

“Ten.”

“I can do that.”

TC sinks his teeth into the flesh of her shoulder and groans at the sound she makes. Yeah, definitely a proposition and there’s not enough of his brain awake quite yet to tell him that this is a bad idea. They’re stressed, half asleep, vulnerable, and—

“ _TC…_ ”

His hands move on their own, an uncanny and familiar heat filling him as he pulls her shirt up to get more of his hands on her bare skin and then sinks his hand beneath the band of her scrub pants, holding her still as she twists and shudders. How long has it been for her is a passing thought, right before a quick calculation of how long it’s been for him. She’s wearing some deliciously thin body suit,  that ends as a lacy scrap of cloth between her cheeks and cries out when pulls her pants down with a violent pull and rolls over her to pull her legs off the side of the cot so she’s bent over the edge of the bed. Before she even moves, his hand is on the back of her neck and the other is sliding between her thighs to stroke her. It’s just short of a scream at the first graze and a needy moan the moment he sinks his fingers in her. She’s tight and burning warm and so wet it’s making him dizzy.

Fuck yes he could do this in ten minutes, he didn’t want to, he wanted at least three hours, but he’d work with what he’d been blessed with and not complain. Scrambling to fish out his wallet and pray there a condom left in there. There is and the expiration date is somehow months in the future.  He can’t even remember the last time he bought condoms.

“You’re going to be the death of me,” he growled and smacked her ass with a possessiveness that shocked him.

She doesn’t yelp, but it’s a sound he usually imagined accompanying a fucking after a long time away. It’s needy and desperate and is telling him to hurry up and make her do it again. Somehow, he manages to roll the condom on and open her up enough so that even this hard, the slide in is less pain and more pleasure. She’s going to be sore after this, but he’s determined to make it the kind of sore that she won’t regret as he slides in and stay still just a moment to give her a second.

“No time,” she panted, bringing an arm up to push up, but something in him forces her back down as he works up to an easy wet rhythm before thrusting in earnest. It’s a race, a crazy maddened race and she smells like perfume and sex and generally amazing. Her hand clenched in the blanket they’d just been sleeping under, her thighs flexing to push back into his thrust as he bites his lip hard and stifles a scream as their orgasms slam into them like a freight train and he thrusts straight through them.

Her phone beeps signaling that shift is about to start and TC slides out of her slowly as not to hurt her and tugs her pants over her hips as she pants, shaking against the cot. Almost disregarding his own state of undress, he helps her stand up and turn around to sit on the bed and catch her breath.

Halle’s brain is a mess of hormones and happy chemicals so all she can do, really, is look at him as he pulls the condom off, almost dripping wet, with slick fingers, tie the end and stuff it into a random glove he has stowed in his back pocket. His cock is still hard and judging not only from the size of it, but the soreness that’s beginning to set in, he’s a grower… a really big grower. She’s going to have to soak later, but there’s no time for that as he manages to tuck himself back into his Calvin Klein underwear, button and zip up his pants even as it nearly slips through his fingers that are still slick.

“You okay?” He asked gently, but she wouldn’t look at him.

She nodded, bit her lip and grabbed her phone, “Shift’s starting.”

He doesn’t get another word out before she’s rushing out of the door and he followed her, turning the opposite way towards where he was supposed to be scrubbing in.

He pressed his slick hands against the soap dispenser and began to--

“Damn it,” he cursed as soon as his hands are lathered with soap.

“What?” Topher asked, scrubbing beside him.

“I…”

Topher looked at TC as he let out a heavy breath and dried off and headed into surgery. He was still probably flushed in the face so Topher thought he was probably fever high and he felt a little high because he was still coming down from orgasm. It had been long enough, or maybe his happy chemicals had been so depleted lately, that it felt a bit like he was high, but he kept his expression neutral and worked through the surgery and the next and the next.

Halle does much of the same, that neutral Martin poker face that kept everyone from asking anything because nothing looked wrong. She avoided the closet but went to work out, saved only by the fact that the guys were there too lifting weights and listening to Kenny give his usual “this is a man’s workout” speech.

“Look who’s come to join us!” He said. “Come to do a real workout?”

She laughed walking in her running tights, loose shirt, and tennis shoes, “You wouldn’t know what a real work out was if it fell on you.”

Kenny hissed as she plugged in her headphones, tied her hair up into a ponytail of twists and grabbed a jump rope. She turned on her music and stretched above her head before beginning, taking an easy warm-up. Kenny watching with a look of humor.

“Not much of a work out.”

But then she started the foot work, speeding up with the rhythm of whatever she was listening to, mouthing the words, eyes closed and TC tilted his head watching her. There was something familiar about it, the way she jumped maybe, somewhere in between dancing and extremely coordinated jump rope. Squats, cross leg jumps melding into dances he remembered being cool in the nineties, but TC couldn’t place it. Obviously, a routine, Kenny laughed watching in amazement because it was obvious that she’d been jumping for a long time and may have a little more hood in her than her demeanor would imply it makes him think of family reunions when he was kid in his nice shoes while everyone else wore sneakers.  

TC watched a few moments more, trying to peer back into his past and figure out what about it felt so familiar. She tucked her legs high, landing solid and taking three breaths before starting up backward swings, eyes still closed as she jumped and somewhere beyond the army, there was a flicker of a memory. He’d been running around campus, not really paying attention, just wanting a break from filling his brain with information when he’d seen her in the middle of the courtyard in the early morning, jumping rope in a way that was very similar to the way Halle jumped rope now. He hadn’t stopped to watch, because who wanted to be watched while working out?

When she was done, she just stopped and put her rope up. She stretched and told them goodbye before walking out and chugging water.

“So much for a fake work out,” Paul said and Kenny slapped him over the head. TC had been on the treadmill, running at top speed when she’d been halfway through and was still running now. Kenny thought it was odd that there had been no direct words exchanged between the two.

It only took a few days for everyone else to realize it as well. No teasing, Halle seemed to be avoiding TC like the plague, but when they were in the same room nothing seemed to change…it’s just they were never found alone.

“Think they’re fighting?” Paul asked watching them at the nurse’s station talking to the nurse’s behind the desk. Halle left before TC could catch her.

Earlier, it had been TC to leave first.

“Dunno,” Krista said eating a mini-muffin, “But these muffins are awesome.”

Drew and Jayden shared a look before going after their respective friends. Jayden grabbed Halle by the arm and dragged her into the break room while Drew dragged TC into the locker room where Topher stood waiting.

“Alright,” TC threw up his hands. “I ate the last cookie. I’m sorry.”

Not even a chuckle and Kenny looked at him meaningfully. Serious talk then, damn.

“What’s going on?” Topher asked.

“With…?”

“You and Halle.”

He swallowed and licked his lip, forcing himself to relax, “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Drew?”

“Bullshit,” he said and forced him to sit down on the bench. “Talk or I’m calling Gwaine.”

TC groaned, that was the last thing he needed at the moment because Gwaine knew his tells better than anyone, especially his vocal ones… he could also never bring himself to hide anything from his twin… he’d told Gwaine about Thad, about Jordan… about everything.

“Nothing’s… wrong I guess. I don’t know.”

Kenny tilted his head, “You fighting? Cause you know, nurse solidarity comes first depending on the severity of the argument.”

“No,” TC said. “We didn’t fight… If that was a fight, I should have more them… like all the time.”

Kenny’s eyes widened and he leaned forward. Topher’s jaw dropped. Drew was the only one who didn’t seem surprised and TC guessed that was because Drew, more than anyone, knew him.

“You…” Kenny started. “You banged Halle didn’t you? Fuck man, why would you--”

TC stuck out a finger menacingly at him. He didn’t need Kenny’s guilt trip about it as he was already beating himself up enough over it.

“I didn’t mean for it to happen. It was a mutually agreed upon quickie which we haven’t talked about and she’s avoiding me.”

Kenny shook his head, “Of all the nurses you had to bang, Halle was the next on your list? _Halle_ , make a mean pie, gets the army jokes, and a fucking badass… _Halle._ Jesus TC, it could have been anyone!”

He grit his teeth glaring at Kenny, “It couldn’t have been _anyone_.”

Kenny shut his mouth and his eyes narrowed, “Don’t fucking do this to me, T. She deserves better than that.”

TC groaned, “Halle isn’t the type of woman you fuck around with, she’s…”

Special was a potential word. Wonderful, perfect, amazing… he almost groaned at his own internal romantic.

Drew watched, he’d never seen TC truly afraid, but he was afraid right now… afraid of ruining his relationship with Halle and that alone was enough to earn a chance to be heard… even though Kenny didn’t seem to be interested in letting him have one.

“Then why?” Kenny asked groaning. “Flirting is one thing, but T—”

“What do you want from me, Kenny?” TC glared. “I’ve got enough of a problem trying to figure out how to salvage one of the only good things in my life without you giving me shit. It just fucking happened.”

“You should have known better!”

Drew held up his hand, “Kenny, don’t make it sound like Halle’s some innocent minor or something. She’s an adult fully capable of making her own decisions.”

Kenny huffed, biting his tongue. Yes, Halle was a grown woman but she tugged on all of his brotherly instincts… instincts he hadn’t even realized he’d had as he was an only child. There was a sweet innocence to Halle that made him want to protect her—not that TC was the worst, but he wasn’t necessarily in a place to be in a relationship with Halle or with anyone really.

“TC, don’t make it sound like you’re at fault,” Drew said calmly. “You both agreed and you won’t know where you two stand until you talk.”

TC let out a breath, “She’s never going to talk to me again.”

“That’s a lie,” Drew said, patting his shoulder. “She will. You two have been dancing around one another for months. Just talk to her.”

He chuckled and closed his fists, he was sure that she wouldn’t talk to him. It was apparent that Kenny thought he had and maybe he’d ruined his relationship with Kenny too… He was always—

“Stop,” Topher said, earning TC’s eyes on him. “You haven’t ruined anything until she kicks you in the nuts.”

TC scoffs a laugh, these were the men he trusted? What great friends.

*

It doesn’t even take coaxing. Halle just sits at the table, staring somewhere in between the table and forever as Jayden fills her thermos and takes the seat across from her.

“Alright Halle,” she started. “What’s scaring you the most?”

“I…” the words die in her throat as she turns her attention to the swirling creamer in the cup. “I can’t.”

Jayden nodded, “You think he’s going to be an Anthony?”

Halle swallowed thickly, “May have crossed my mind… and I don’t want that. I like TC. I like our friendship, really. It just happened.”

Jayden nodded, “It’s been four years, he’s hot and really wants you, all of you, I’m surprised you two lasted this long.”

Halle took a sip and took a deep breath.

“You can’t be afraid to ask for the title if you want it,” Jayden said. “Hashtag E. Martin Wisdom. Hashtag I Ain’t The One.”

“Hashtag Spartan101,” Halle said dutifully with a small smile. “I’m not afraid of asking for it.”

“No, but you’re afraid of not getting it,” Jayden pointed out. “Precedence doesn’t define the future, but you have a conditioned response given your past.”

“Like you and fades?”

“More subtle,” Jayden said. “I… admire you Hal’… you never just gave up… you always asked and were never afraid to walk away if it wasn’t exactly what you wanted.”

Halle smiled, “Yes… many a lonely nights and bitter words…”

“Better that than being a Basicca.”

Halle swallowed thickly, “I’m a Martin. We don’t do Basic. We do Deluxe, Super Deluxe, and Royal.”

They laughed, a quiet one that did more to settle Halle’s thoughts than anything that had been said did.

“I’ll talk to him.”

“Good, with any luck we’ll get you two properly dating before Christmas.”

That makes Halle laugh it would be Christmas Eve within a few hours. What a timetable.

“By the way,” Jayden started. “What’d you get for TC?”

Halle snorted, “Not telling.”

*

Gwaine doesn’t expect TC to be there when he gets to the condo, but he is. The shower is running in TC’s room and once again Gwaine is shocked. There are pictures on the walls, his degrees, a few awards, and a stand with Thad’s dog tags framed.

The kitchen is still full, and the boxes of stuff from TC’s move that had been lurking in the storage closet the last time he’d been there were gone. The study looked more like TC’s graduate apartment. Books filling the shelves, organized in some fashion, the desk covered in pages, his laptop open. It’s the one Gwaine sent him and had still been in its packaging the last time he’d visited.

The super hero mug isn’t there, but there’s a ring where it had once been sitting and Gwaine has no doubt that TC is back to researching. He knows the other went to a conference in Ireland recently, but he thought TC was presenting on work he’d already done. The fact that he was working on something else was good.  It meant he was taking some time to pursue his interests instead of pouring his life into the hospital he worked in. When TC took the job at San Antonio, it had never been a thing of permanence, just a place to help him transition back into himself outside of war. 

“Hello intruder with my face,” Gwaine turned around to see TC in unbuttoned jeans, his trademark Calvin Klein underwear and a towel around his neck. 

“Happy Christmas Eve,” Gwaine told him. “Mom doesn’t know I’m here so hush on that and you’d better be coming to Christmas.”

TC nodded and that’s when Gwaine tilted his head and asked, “What is it? You and your gorgeous nurse not working out?”

“I’m not sure… hoping to find out today and it being more of a Christmas miracle than a tragedy.”

Gwaine nodded, “If she can resist you, pull out the puppy eyes and flick the hair. Gets them every time.”

TC snorted and walked back towards the kitchen to fill the thermos sitting beside it. A thermos… TC had a thermos that was inspiring and soothing: _Keep Calm And Save Lives._ It’s a constant reminder of the good he was doing… one that he could carry around with him and look at frequently, whenever he needed to… he bet that Halle had given it to him. 

“You’ve got it bad…” Gwaine told him and TC laughed, telling him that there’s plenty of food.

“I’ll head to Mom’s after I pick up Merlin tonight.” 

“I…I’ll come...if I’m not called in.”

“Sneaky, but my surprise will still trump yours.”

Of course it would, Gwaine had a lot more avenues to surprise their mother. He just hoped that he could force himself to go this year instead of actually working a double. He hadn’t been at a family holiday event since Thad’s death. The thought of being in that house laughing with his mother, Drew and Gwaine without Thad there, then without Thad or Jordan…. having to face Annie? It had been enough to make him sick, but maybe… maybe this year he could manage it. 

Gwaine knows that there’s a chance that TC will find himself unable to come whether by his choice or someone else’s, but he hopes that the progress he’s seen in TC is a sign that maybe TC will make it to the house. Regina put on a brave front about it all, but he knew how hard it was for her to know that one son was dead, another was gone for most of the year, and the third couldn’t stand to be in his childhood home.

“Before you go,” Gwaine said, grabbing his briefcase and pulling out a thick envelope. “Those tickets…”

TC nodded taking them. He’d almost forgotten about them. He’d been planning to use the concert as their official first date, but with everything that had happened, he was considering just adding it to her Christmas package. 

“Thanks.”  
“Go get her,” Gwaine told him. “You’re Irish, believe in your luck.”

TC couldn’t help but laugh as he headed out and prayed, maybe to Thad, or some ancestor, that it would all work out the way he wanted it to. 

*

Halle arrives at her normal time, getting off the phone with her Dad only after promising to show up for Christmas even if that means she’s asleep on the couch. She greeted the nurse’s at the desk and walked towards the locker room to find TC sitting in front of her locker. His hair is highway dried and a little wild. He looks like he’s slept well and he’s somewhere in between focus and mania.

He looked up at her with a tight smile and swallowed thickly. She walked forward and sat beside him, facing the lockers, placing her tote beside her and taking a deep breath.

“We’re okay,” TC started. “Right?”

“Are we?” She asked glancing at him.

She doesn’t move when he takes her hand and squeezes, his eyes are looking at her, she can feel them staring at her.

“I hope so,” he said. “I hope you don’t hate me for—”

“I wanted it,” she said. “There’s nothing to hate you for.”

“I was starting to think you did,” he said, licking his lips and drawing her attention. “It was radio silence all week. I was beginning to think you’d never speak to me again.”

“What about work? That just wouldn’t be feasible…”

“And that you’d start calling me Dr. Callahan,” he shuddered.

She laughed at that, she’s pretty sure that at this point they’re too close for the formality. She shook her head and squeezed his hand.

 “Jokes aside,” he said, looking at their joined hands. “I don’t… want to mess this… us up.”

“Yeah?”

“I don’t want one time to be the reason why we don’t talk anymore.”

“You’ve smacked my bare ass, _Dr. Callahan_. I think if anything that should have been the point where we stopped talking.”

It’s his turn to laugh before there’s a shriek outside the door and laughter. Jayden walked in, warned them that there were mistletoe traps in high traffic areas and showed them the video of Drew kissing Kenny.

“Best day ever…”Halle laughed watching Kenny’s reaction. Drew only laughed and Halle had no intention of letting Kenny live it down. After she’d changed into her new, super-cute scrubs courtesy of Brooklyn, she kept one eye on the ceiling and one eye out for Kenny.

“So is he a good kisser?” She asked from a chair behind the nurse’s desk as he walked by.

“Hal’, please don’t remind me.”

Jayden was watching it on her phone, “Dunno, did he get his tongue inside?”

Kenny let out a pained sound that made them both laugh, “What happened to nurse solidarity?”

“This is solidarity, there’s nothing wrong with exploring your sexuality.”

Drew came asking for a set of charts and grinning, “He melted a little bit.”

“I did not!”

“It’s okay Kenny,” he said with a grin. “I’m a really good kisser--had some great teachers.”

Kenny made a face somewhere in between horror and panic before Halle stood up to take her rounds and TC came down the hall fresh from surgery. He stopped to grin at her.

“Hi.” He said.

“Hi,” she replied smiling at him feeling a bit like she was in high school all over again.

“Busy after shift?”

“Family Christmas,” she said. “I promised…. And I thought you were going to go see your Mom… aren’t you in enough trouble?”

TC pouted, wrapping an arm around her waist, “Don’t remind me.”

Halle squeezed him tightly, “Go let yourself be smothered by family.”

“And you? Are all of your siblings going to be in attendance?”

“Most of them and if not their kids will be.”

TC nodded and hummed, before rolling his neck and stopping to look at the mistletoe above their heads.

“Was wondering when you’d notice that,” Jayden said, poised with her video camera.

The waiting room and foyer turned to look at them as the members of the night shift made wolf whistles and Halle tried to squirm her way out of it.

“Not fair.”

“Come here,” TC said a low rumble and a hand cupping her cheek to draw her back against him.

“What’s all the commotion?” Ragosa asked in his normal angry voice…but there was a smudge of lipstick on his collar… A color suspiciously similar to Landry’s lipstick… apparently, everyone was benefitting from the mistletoe.

“Ragosa! You’ve finally joined the ranks of the night shift,” Kenny announced patting him on his shoulder.

TC grinned looking at Halle who looked a little put out at being put on display, but highly distracted by the way TC looked at her. Not really innocent and just short of scandalous.

“You know,” he said. “I didn’t get to taste.”

She can’t ask him what he meant because he’s kissing her, full on possession and passion, tongue in her mouth, slow and sensual like he means to steal all the air and resistance from her…

All the shine from her hair and all the sense in her head too….

Jayden cheers as he lets her go and kissed her forehead before Kenny laughed.

“Damn Hal’, why not just have sex with him right here?”

Jordan looks like she’s about to say a whole lot of truth that Kenny isn’t ready to hear so Halle steps in.

She socked him solidly in the arm, “Like you can talk, your lips still tingling?”

“Shut up.”

Halle manages to get down the hallway, on her way to the first patient on her list before Jordan catches up to her.

“Halle.”

She turned and looked at Jordan, “Yes, Dr. Alexander?”

“Please, just Jordan.”

 _Oh god…here we go._ It wouldn’t have been suspicious if that was how they’d started their conversations when Halle was first hired, or if maybe Jordan apologized for some of the crazy she’d been unloading on to Halle lately, but whenever someone suddenly dropped the formalities, it was usually because they wanted to ask you something that wasn’t any of their business… at least that was her experience of it.

“Could we talk for a minute?”

Halle checked her watch and considered lying, but there was no point in it. This conversation would just turn into a walking conversation.

“I’m a tad early for my rounds, did you need something?”

Jordan steps out of the center of the hallway and meets Halle’s eyes.

“I just wanted to say thank you,” she said. “For taking care of TC… he needed it. I’m not sure what he’s told you about us or him before San Antonio, but he was in a pretty bad place. ”

Halle waits until Jordan continues, looking for the bit that this conversation was really about. That was obviously her fishing for information, to figure out if she and TC were in a relationship, but she wasn’t sure of the motives. A voice that sounded suspiciously like Evelyn Martin told her to listen to what she wasn’t saying and assume that this conversation was about TC.

“And…to be careful,” she said. “TC is… great. He’s a great guy, but when he came back from the war… he changed—a lot and not completely in the good way.”

“As war does to good men.”

Jordan blinked as if she hadn’t been expecting Halle to say that.

“Right,” Jordan nodded. “I just wanted to warn you is all. You know, us women in the ER should stick together. I don’t know how long you two have been… involved, but I just thought you should know since you’re new.”

Halle manages a smile and nods, “Thanks, Dr. Alexander. I’ll keep that in mind.”

“Really,” she said. “Jordan is fine. No need to be formal.”

 _Right…_ Halle couldn’t quite understand Jordan. From what she’d been told in Jayden’s orientation to the drama of the hospital, she was in fact publically dating Scott, maybe moving in with him, getting married or otherwise committed to him, yet there was an obviously unresolved past that Jordan was still struggling with. Maybe TC wasn’t any longer, maybe he was, but he made it a point to remain as professional as possible in regards to Jordan.

“Are you two spending Christmas together?” Jordan asked. “I remember that he hadn’t been for a while…even though he’s been living at home.”

 _Interesting_ , maybe it was the Martin in Halle, the half that was Evelyn Martin, that made her feel a little superior. TC had been living in Gwaine’s high-rise for a while, far longer than they’d been separated, yet Jordan didn’t know that he wasn’t living at home… Or it was bait to get Halle to reveal something about their relationship? She hadn’t quite figured out if Jordan was an incidental or intentional game-player.

“No,” she told her. “Prior engagements and all that.”

Jordan nodded, “I understand that…. Have you met his twin yet?”

Halle nodded, “He was here a few weeks ago. You didn’t run into him?”

Jordan tilted her head, she hadn’t been aware that Gwaine had been in the building, which was rather surprising since another TC was bound to cause an uproar.

“No… I didn’t.”

“He wasn’t here long,” Halle said. “I’m sure he’ll be back.”

“I’d be careful around Gwaine,” Jordan said with a tone that was oddly telling. Halle couldn’t tell what she was getting at, but knew it probably had a lot to do with why she and TC parted ways.

“Oh?”

“He’s… very protective,” Jordan said. “Maybe overly so, which is understandable, but he’s never liked me.”

Even more telling, “He seemed nice enough, but I only spoke to him briefly _._ ”

Jordan smiled and nodded, “You know, even though you’re a nurse, you’re a part of the night shift. If you need anything, reach out.”

Halle smiled, “Sure thing.”

Jordan nodded as Halle continued down the hallway, running the conversation through her mind. There was something behind Jordan’s words that she couldn’t place. It was obvious that Jordan probably didn’t count Halle among the Night Shift if only because she felt the need to say “even though” as if her statement would negate the fact that she considered the nurses as separate from who she considered a part of the night shift. Perhaps it was because Halle was there as a surgeon’s assistant and an NPR.

But that conversation had been about TC at the core and she just didn’t have enough information to make any conclusions about Jordan or where she stood with the woman, or any of the women he’d slept with besides Landry.

Speaking of, Landry fell into step beside her as she headed to the last patient on the list.

“Jordan talk to you?” Halle nodded as Landry shook her head, “What do you think?”

She shrugged, “I’m going to say undecided.”

Landry nodded, “Well, steady on and all that. I’ve got those surveys for you if you want to swing by and pick them up.”

“Thanks Landry, I’ll come get them before the end of shift. You probably have enough paperwork on your desk.”

“Most of it is for you.”

Halle beamed, that was exactly what she wanted to hear.

“How’d you get Ragosa?” Halle asked with curiosity.

She grinned, “Habla espanol.”

Halle nodded, “I see you, mami. Dale.”

Landry laughed.

*

“Happy Christmas!” TC cheered, wearing a Santa’s hat and greeting people that came into the break room.

“Your Irish is showing,” Drew said. “It’s Merry Christmas on this side of the world.”

TC rolled his eyes. The break room’s Christmas tree had presents under it, from no one in particular, but addressed to every doctor in the building. Day shift had already grabbed theirs and Topher was busy handing out the ones for the night shift. They were tiny little knickknacks, Santa hats, festive things that were meant to make them smile. The gift exchange had been semi-public and commenced as such. There was the Secret Santa from which TC received tiny set of underwear that said “Dr. Feel Good” across the ass cheeks.

“Halle?” TC asked showing them to her. Halle laughed.

“Not even. I had Drew.”

Who was currently blushing and refusing to show what she’d gotten him. She was a sneak. A fox in sheep’s clothing. The box had been so nicely wrapped with a hand tied bow, straight out of a damn catalog for Christmas gifts, but it was filled with demon gifts.

“You’re despicable,” he growled.

“You’ll put it all to good use, I know,” she said seriously. “You can thank me later.”

“Halle!” Paul shrieked taking a peak into Drew’s box once Kenny had wrestled it from him.

She apparently had just ruined the image he’d held in his mind of her because the box was purely sexual. An industrial-sized pump bottle of water-based lube, a matching set of vibrating cock rings with separate remotes, massage oils, a book of love tokens that were unimaginably sexy, a pair of real handcuffs and a vibrating dildo.

“No, it gets better.”

Drew threw himself over the box before Paul could get to the bottom of it, but TC was faster and burst into laughter upon reading the box.

“Vibrating Doctor’s tools for an authentically sexy feel.”

Drew, red-hot and burning, snatched it from TC’s hand and put it back in the box, glaring at Halle who looked as though she was trying extremely hard not to laugh.

“You will rue this moment.”

“Never,” she said with a wolfish grin. “And neither will you.”

TC laughed as Drew kept a hawk’s eye on his box, warding off everyone who wanted to know what he got. It’s not surprising that Drew’s gift is the most ridiculous and who the hell would have known that Halle had such a dirty sense of humor?  Drew watches the clock for when it would be Halle’s turn to be utterly embarrassed and bides his time through the rest of the gift exchange. Halle’s box is filled with Fall Out Boy paraphernalia. The deluxe edition of their latest CD signed by the band, a poster also signed, jewelry, a swim suit cover, and a phoenix colored mono-kini that had “FOB” and the band’s symbol for clasps.

“I expect to see you in that,” TC said and she rolled her eyes.

“Of course you do.”

TC’s box isn’t funny at all, but perfect. A shiny set of cuff links that would go with anything, a new belt buckle that would surely dress up anything he was wearing, and a tiny crash case that could fit in the breast pocket of practically any blazer he owned. It looked like a wallet but folded out into a full surgical set for a doctor who may have found himself without an OR.

“Because I know you like to be prepared.”

“Take away my MacGuyver factor why don’t you?”

She grinned and said that she highly doubted that she could do that.

It’s nearing the end of shift when TC catches her and tell her to meet him in the locker room for the last of her Christmas present.

“No,” she said, on principle because he looked a little too gleeful at the prospect of whatever he was planning.

Unfortunately, she’d embarrassed Drew, one of the only people in the hospital capable of bodily carrying her long distances with no problem. At thirty minutes to the end of shift, Jayden took her paper work, Drew picked her up and carried her to the locker room.

“Drew!”

“I promised you that you would rue this day. I don’t know what he’s got planned, but I’m happy to help if it could even remotely pay you back for that.”

“It was a very well-thought out gift!”

“I’m sure TC’s is too,” he said and set her down in front of the locker room before pushing her in and locking the door from the outside.

_Thank you Janitorial staff._

“You know I planned this to be the beginning of how I get you to consider dating me.”

She turned to see him and her eyes widen because… his pants are leather and sinfully tight.

“Thought you couldn’t wear leather to work?” She said a tad out of breath, tracing the stretch of leather, good quality leather, over his thighs.

It makes her think of dungeons and hours spent floating higher and higher beyond worry or care and feeling safe and settled beyond all belief… It makes her think of a long time ago.

“I can wear them to ride though,” he said and turned and that’s when she had to laugh because why was there a gigantic bow over his crotch? He grinned at her and took her hand, before steering her into a chair.

“What is this?”

“Christmas,” he said. “A very sexy Christmas.”

He tapped at the screen of his phone and she burst into laughter, it was absolutely ludicrous because what on earth would TC know about Ginuwine?

Outside Kenny and Drew stood guard, casually deflecting people with a “Janitorial Work In Progress” sign over the door. There’s laughter and then the low sound of music, of “Pony” to be specific.

“What the hell is TC doing?” Kenny asked as Drew shook his head.

“Something between them.”

“I don’t know, Drew. I think it would hurt my pride a little if someone laughed at me while I did something in relation to a song about sex.”

Drew grinned, “TC has no shame.”

Kenny nodded, that was fair.

Halle shrieked and Kenny looked at the door, curiosity officially piqued.

“Don’t do it,” Drew advised. “You’re still freaking out about me kissing you, no way you’re prepared to deal with whatever TC is doing.”

He doubted Halle was prepared either.

Yet another first for Halle: a strip show and a lap dance… a very enthusiastic strip show that violated every rule she knew about stripping, yet here she was being grinded on, very enthusiastically by TC in a holiday themed pair of tiny underwear. He’d stripped his leather pants off a while ago and how he’d made getting undressed so sexy she wouldn’t know.

 _His hips_ , her mind supplied watching them roll in a way that was supposed to make her think of other things, but then he was standing, straddling her thighs, his crotch in her face and telling her to pull at the bow.

“No,” she said on principle holding back a set of giggles. “Absolutely not.”

“Pull it Halle,” he said, wiggling his hips. “Humor me.”

“I think I’ve humored you enough.”

He grinned and apparently changed tactics, moving to make her open her legs and stand between them, sliding his hands over her with a knowledge of what she looked like in her underwear. Aside from the smell of a cologne that she really liked, how he knew that she didn’t know, and the general heat of him, there should have been nothing to distract her from refusing his request again, but she was only human and the memory of the quickie in the closet was still a little too near.

So she took the edge of the ribbon and watched the bow unravel and the tiny pair of underwear turn into an even smaller thong that barely contained his cock. One wrong move and he’d slip out she was sure.

“I made sure to be hard this time,” he said with a grin, lifting her up from the chair and pinning her against the wall while he continued his strip show.

She doesn’t have the presence of mind to say anything, because his lips are dragging hot lines of want down her neck and his hands are everywhere. The hard length of him grinding into her and she bites back a moan.

“You’re allowed to touch,” he said with a predatory smile. “Go on.”

Against her better judgment, she gets a full hand of his naked ass and squeezes.

“This… still doesn’t make us even.”

He grinned, “I didn’t expect it to.”

When the song ends, she’s a little past hot and bothered, relying on him to keep on her feet.

“Look up,” he said softly against her neck and she does to see strings of mistletoe.

“Really?” she laughed.

He grinned, “Really.”

His lips smother the giggle threatening to bubble up, before swallowing her next breath and possibly most of her sense too. Hands on her hips, arms around his neck, he kisses her nowhere near gently. It’s hungry and desperate like they should be fucking right now not this high school grinding they were engaged in.

“God if there was time,” TC groaned, rolling his hips as she clung to him. “I haven’t felt like this since high school.”

She bit her lip, brushing his hair out of his face and kissed him gently, “Settle down or you won’t make it on your bike.”

TC nodded slowly, “Need an extra cold shower now.”

“Not in the fungal shower, please,” she pleaded as guided her back into the chair.

He beamed at her and stepped over to collect the scrap of underwear and she laughed.

“Naughty List?” She asked.

He nodded, “I thought you’d appreciate it.”

“If all stripers are as enthusiastic as you, I can understand why stripping is so popular.”

He froze then at his locker before looking at her, “Halle… don’t tell me this was your first strip show.”

“I won’t.”

He groaned, “How many purity points have I taken from you?”

She snickered, “Don’t know what else are you planning?”

“ _Everything…_ ”

She didn’t say anything as he stripped down to change underwear, completely ignoring her sitting there, watching him. From the angle, she could only see bare hip, but the efficiency and flippancy with which he changed signaled that his modesty had truly died a peaceful death a long time ago.

“You really don’t care who sees you naked do you?” Halle asked.

He glanced at her and slip on a pair of real underwear before stepping into his leathers, “Nope.”

“Dr. Feel Good,” she said. “That’s your stripper name.”

“Like it,” he said. “I do now have a pair of underwear with that on the back.”

“Even I don’t have underwear that says things on the back.”

“No you’ve just go underwear meant for sex…by the way… what are you wearing today? I have yet to see a repeat.”

She rolled her eyes and turned to her locker, “Consider this humoring you.”

He grunted as she pulled off her shirt and slipped out of her scrub pants.

“I… fucking love Christmas…”

A red corset with green satin ties in the front, it held together well, but TC had no doubt that it was meant to fall apart. The underwear were a bright and festive red with green and gold trim.  She pulled her tote from her bag and began to get dressed in a sinfully tight emerald green dress. It was a form-fitting sweater dress with bells and ribbons stitched along seam that went over her hip and heels.

He took his santa hat and dutifully put it on her head.

“Yeah… that’s my kind of Santa.”

“Shut up,” she said and laughed. A t-shirt and leathers was all he had in terms of Christmas gear.

“Are you going home first?” Halle asked, packing her tote and turning towards the door as he shrugged on his jacket.

“Yeah… gotta change… look a little less like hospital.”

“I don’t think your mother would care if you showed up in scrubs,” Halle told him. “She’d be happy to just see you there.”

He took a breath around the ache in his chest as they walked out and towards the front of the hospital. Jayden had already changed, ready to head towards Halle’s father’s house for food and family fun which would more than likely end in some kind or argument, someone drunk, and the both of them asleep on the couch, but that was family. The trip to Houston to visit who was left of the Martin and the Thomas family for New Year’s would probably end up much of the same, but, again, … that was just family.

“You think so?” TC asked.

Halle looked at him, watching the oddly nervous flickering in his eyes and nodded, “Don’t go home. Drive straight there and see for yourself.”

It was edging towards eight in the morning now. No doubt the family festivities had gotten started because Regina Brennan did Christmas as a three day event: Christmas Eve, Christmas, and then the day after sales for everything else. He could almost smell Christmas breakfast and hear the sound of men who’d been chasing after Regina for years talking with family members as he walked with Halle and Jayden out into the parking lot. Drew had already left to pick up Rick and head over and had offered TC a ride, but he hadn’t taken the offer and Drew hadn’t pushed.

He did wonder if David was there this year, his and Gwaine’s top pick among Regina’s would be suitors. Jayden climbed in the car as Halle gave him a kiss to his cheek and a squeeze to the hand.

“Go,” she told him. “Trust yourself, TC.”

He nodded slowly and stole a hug from her, maybe for sanity, maybe for strength before walking towards his bike. He drank the rest of his tea and shoved his thermos into the cup holder in his saddlebag before tugging on his helmet and steering his bike out of the parking lot.

The drive to his childhood home isn’t a long one, but it feels shorter than usual as he guides his bike on to the street and stops, cutting the engine at the corner and looking at the house. Gwaine’s bike is there, a Tesla, a minivan, Drew’s truck and three other cars. There are a few squad cars and a work truck parked across the street from the house. Even at the distance, he can hear the laughter in the house, the sound of children running around. He guessed that Regina’s sister and her children are there with their kids as those are the only children in the family. Maybe someone flew in, he isn’t sure. The house is decorated the way it always is on Christmas: to outdo everyone else on the block. It looks like a winter wonderland even though it’s about sixty degrees outside. There are icicle lights dripping from the side of the house, fake frost on the windows. He can see the glimpse of the Christmas tree through the window as well. He knows that it’s been decorated for at least a week, it’s immaculate and the presents have already been mostly distributed and unwrapped by the kids.

He swallowed thickly and chuckled remembering how Regina had to institute martial order every year about the tree topper until Drew arrived and it became unanimous that Drew would always put the tree topper on: a glowing celtic knot that Regina had since before the twins were born. He could almost picture the living room decorated from top to bottom, stockings with everyone’s names on them hung up and maybe half empty. The tree, shining with lights and sparkly ribbons, orbs dangling from the branches from Gwaine and TC’s respective universities. Thad’s had been from his enlistment as had Drew’s…

He swallowed again and moved to turn the key, to go home, to do anything but walk in there. He wouldn’t be able to handle it if he freaked out and hurt someone… if anything happened and Christmas was sure to be a trigger.

_Trust yourself, TC._

He took another shuddering breath. Yes, he’d been riding around with his family’s gifts. Yes, he had every intention of giving them, like he did every year… just not on Christmas… just not in person… He could still shove them in the mailbox and run…but he finds himself dismounting and steering his bike down the street towards the house. Every step lead heavy and making a mess of his insides. His hands are shaking, his legs feel weak, yet he walked on until his bike was parked just behind Gwaine’s. He pulled his bags full of gifts from the saddlebags and leaves his backpack on before walking in between the cars, avoiding being seen from the house’s windows.

He could leave them on the doorstep, he thought. He was definitely stealthy enough to—

It’s then that his phone vibrates in his pocket and he answers.

“Hey Mom,” he said thickly.

“Happy Christmas!” she said cheerily and TC could hear her from inside the garage. “I know you’re probably busy at the hospital, but I wanted to tell you that you’re missing in the fluffiest pancakes ever, apple syrup and maybe rub it in your face a little.”

He chuckled, “Definitely missing the pancakes.”

“They’ll always be here for you, dear,” she said and there’s a catch in her voice that breaks his heart.

Regina Brennan the first love of his life still being so damn strong and he couldn’t give her just this? Just his face there for however long he could stand it? Just a second?

_Trust yourself, TC…_

She cleared her throat, “Sorry dear, must have caught something from the kids. You know how sanitary public schools are. They’ve only been here for a few days and already I’m sure I’ll have to disinfect the entire house or come down with the plague.”

“Just about as sanitary as a hospital.”

She laughed, “How are you?”

TC stood his full height to peer into the garage. She’s leaning on her car, facing the opposite wall, dabbing her eyes with a Kleenex in her hand, no doubt breathing softly so he won’t hear her. Even from behind, she looks just as she always did in her huge red Christmas sweater: tough as nails and sweet as pie. She’s dyed her hair a different color since the last time he’s seen her, more red than brown now.

“I’m… better I think. Still a vagabond, an utter charlatan.”

She laughed and he swallowed thickly, “I don’t expect that to ever change, dear.”

The garage door opens and he can hear someone telling her that Uncle Morgan is demanding alcoholic eggnog.

“Oh goodness,” she said. “Seems like the duties never end.”

“I know what you mean. Go on, enjoy Christmas. I love you.”

Her voice is so small that it sounds more like a whisper, “I love you too dear. Come around soon okay?”

“I will.”

She hangs up and he watches her take a moment to wipe her eyes, take a deep calming breath and then turn towards the garage door. His hand knocks on the glass of the window of its own accord, catching her attention so her eyes move towards him and focus, recognizing him slowly.

Her mouth moves to the sounds of his name and he grins at her, waving slowly, his stomach twisting, “Happy Christmas.”

Her hand flies out to hit the garage door button. It moves faster than it used to, but not fast enough so that she doesn’t have to duck under it to reach him. All at once, she’s hugging him, squeezing him tight, stroking his hair, the way she did when he’d been discharged from the service, as if he would disappear if she didn’t hold him tightly enough.

“You’re here…” she said softly, a growing warm and wet spot in his shoulder as he hugged her back.

“I’m here,” he told her letting the tension ease out of him slowly the longer she hugged him.

“We didn’t save you any pancakes,” Gwaine said with a smile. “No apple syrup either.”

“He’s lying,” she said into his shoulder. “There’s plenty of apple syrup.”

TC chuckled a bit drawing back so he can see her. She looks just as she always does: happy to see him, beaming even.  She wasted no time pulling him into the house, clinging to his arm as if he’ll run away. She put him at the table where Arthur and Gwen are still sitting and proceeded to make more pancakes after swatting Gwaine.

“You knew.”

He grinned and kissed her cheek, “It was his thing to tell.”

The pancakes are perfect, like stepping through time into his childhood, and he eats a small mountain of cured meats that he may or may not regret later. The grits are perfectly sweet and he’s sure that she made him drink at least half a jug of apple juice. Uncle Morgan is as cantankerous as ever and still not getting any Bailey’s in his coffee or any alcoholic eggnog.

“No one needs a repeat of the Christmas Disaster of 92’, now do you want cream or half and half?”

He grumbled and said cream. His cousins walk in to greet him, hug him, tell him Happy Christmas and that it was good to see him. Drew and Rick are there somewhat tense and half awkward, but smiling at everyone and enjoying the warmth of the house. Rick is ultra-polite to Regina and she complains that she’ll be spoiled if he continues to call her “Ms. Brennan.”

Merlin has already started calling her “Mom” at this point, earning Gwaine some extra points.

“Regina is fine dear,” she said. “Thank you for taking care of Drew.”

Rick gives her a weak smile and shifts a little in his wheel chair. The prosthetic he has now isn’t meant for standing or walking, just for aesthetics. After he convinces his mother that he isn’t going to run away, TC slid into the den in order to put the presents under the tree and greet his younger cousins who scream and yell and ask him questions about being a doctor.  It’s the teenager who tells him to stay off Youtube because he was ruining his chances with the girls at his high school.

“Can’t measure up to the Irish, or Scottish, doctor on Youtube.”

When he watches the videos, he can’t help but laugh. Random times of getting caught on camera doing something absolutely insane to save someone’s life. There was a whole channel dedicated to it.

“That’s when you tell them that we’re related and milk it for all it’s worth,” TC told him cheerily. “Have you learned nothing?”

James snorts and hugs him. “Welcome back, T.”

It’s a wry smile as he returns the embrace.  He’s hugged practically everyone when he turns to an unfamiliar male face. He’s probably a few years older than TC with dark hair and kind eyes that say he’s been through hell and glad to have his feet on solid ground.

“It’s nice to meet you, TC. I’ve heard a lot about you.” The man offered his hand to him and shook. “Guys from my old platoon owe you a lot.”

TC finds himself smiling, “You can tell them I was doing my duty. Have we met before?”

The man shook his head and smiled, “Dean Thompson.”

He took note of the name, but still had no idea why this man was here and then he sees Annie, humming at a little girl with Thad’s eyes and he stares at the child then at Annie who looks at him with a weak smile before standing with the child in her arms.

She looks just like Thad’s baby pictures.

“TC,” she said softly. “This is Dean, my boyfriend and this is Teagan.”

TC swallowed thickly looking at her and then to Annie.

Drew choked on something behind him and he’s sure that it has something to do with the adorable toddler who is looking at TC confused and a little wary. No more than four years old… Just old enough to be…

“Uncle Gwaine, how’d you cut your hair so fast?”

Annie smiled, “This is your Uncle TC. He’s a doctor.”

The little girl’s eyes brighten the way Thad’s would when football season started. That new life he’d thought had been cast from this world because of his fuck up was there in Annie’s arms, looking at him like the world, and alive…

She was alive.

Thad’s daughter was alive.

“Really?” she asked in a small voice.

“Yeah,” he said, choking back something burning in the back of throat. “Yeah, I’m a doctor.”

“Doctor’s are cool,” she said with a grin.

Annie looked at TC, “Teagan here has been learning about occupations in school…”

He nodded slowly, his eyes burning, Jesus this isn’t what he expected out of Christmas.

“Baby time!” An Aunt interjected, skillfully swooping Teagan out of Annie’s arms before scurrying away.

“I’m stealing her away for presents.”

Annie grimaced and looked to Dean, “Please hide anything that’s going to make an insane amount of noise?”

He chuckled and nodded, nodding at TC before following after the baby stealer.

“She’s… beautiful,” TC said softly. Annie nodded.

“She’s… just like her father. I wonder if there was any room in there for me at all…”

TC looked at her as she let out a breath and stepped forward to hug him.

“I’m so sorry, T,” she said. “I said some pretty horrible things the last time we saw one another.”

“I deserved them.”

She shook her head, “I know you did what you thought was right and if there was anyone who could have saved him, it was you.”

He hugs her back, missing moments like this, but shook his head, “If only that were true.”

Annie squeezed him tightly, “You can’t blame yourself for what happened—”

“You were right,” he said from far away. “It was … my fault that Thad didn’t come home.”

Annie pulled back and looked at him, his eyes burning with tears that were streaming, “I didn’t… couldn’t tell you… before… but… I… I was supposed to cover him…There was… a kid, not even ten years old… I hesitated. I…”

Annie watched him look away, “I couldn’t…”

It’s Regina’s hand that sailed through the air to whack him over the head. He turned to look at her and suddenly ended up with two women in his arms, squeezing him like he needed the comfort, like he needed them to hold him up.

“If I raised a son who would blindly shoot a child, I’d have more to worry about, really.”

TC looked at her maybe half in wonder as she fixed him with a glare, “Things happen in war and you don’t deserve to blame yourself for that. You did everything you could and saved several men’s lives. The one time you couldn’t save someone, doesn’t negate all the good you’ve done… Brother or not.”

“Thad would understand that,” Annie told him with an assurance that was shocking. “And he’d be so very proud of you, TC.”

It tastes a bit like absolution and peace. It isn’t complete, but it’s enough to soothe some of the pain he’s been carrying around, assuage some of the guilt and let him breathe a little more. He nodded stiffly and let Annie wipe his tears with that smile that made him feel like her little brother, the way he used to before Thad died.

“We love you, TC,” Annie told him. “And there is nothing to forgive.”

The moment is broken by the crying of Teagan, who’d fallen as two of the older kids run past. While their parents scold them, TC lifts her off the ground and proceeds to give her a very serious examination which she seems to find extraordinarily entertaining. He applies a bandaid over her scraped palm with all the seriousness of a triple bypass surgery and squeezes her tight for being such a good patient.

“Maybe you should consider working with children,” Gwaine told him with a glass of eggnog in his hand. “You’re good at it.”

“I’d end up sick all the time,” he said, squeezing Teagan a little bit and carrying her back towards the living room where gifts are being open. A little over a few hours pass and between being stuffed full of food and eggnog, love and family, he’s run around in the yard with children and he has just enough hours before he’s due back at the hospital for sleep. He thinks Merlin has cast a spell over him to fall asleep on the extremely comfy couch. He’s laying across the couch, dozing off when Regina brings him a blanket and covers him, kissing his forehead and turning the lamp beside him off.

“Welcome home,” she said to his sleeping form before heading towards the dining room.

*

Regina gives him a stack of Tupperware full of food, hugs for him and Rick before he and Rick head to the truck. Rick wheels himself towards truck and Drew is partially hoping that the easy feeling that had come with Christmas would continue through the car ride home…

But it’s radio silence with Drew trying to make small-talk on the way back to the apartment. He gets taciturn replies for his efforts and eventually, he just shuts his mouth and drives. He slept a bit on the couch while they were there, but not much with the kids running around. He wasn’t sure how TC had managed to stay unconscious the whole time.

“My parents will pick me up,” Rick said before Drew could ask. “I’ll spend Christmas night and tomorrow with them.”

Drew swallowed and nodded, “That’s great, thanks for coming to Christmas… They’ve been wanting to meet you.”

Rick nodded, “It was…. Interesting, to see where you grew up. It wasn’t what I expected I guess.”

Drew isn’t sure what to make of that, but as Rick still isn’t ready to introduce him to his family, he doesn’t comment. He helped Rick out of the truck and opened the door to the apartment, biting his lip. He chances a kiss to Rick’s cheek before sliding things into the refrigerator. His cheeks are hot and he feels stupid for it before going back to see Rick on the couch, lying down and a little feverish.

“Rick?” He asked kneeling, “Are you alright?”

“I’m fine,” he grunts, his jaw tense. “It’s nothing.”

Drew’s eyes narrowed and he glared at Rick and pulled the blanket off.

“Enough,” he gritted out, tugging Rick to sit up, before Rick can say anything Drew covered his mouth, his hand shaking.

“Let me do my damn job, Captain.”

Rick blinked, swallowing thickly and meeting Drew’s eyes. His eyes are shaking, his voice trembled a bit on the end, but it’s firm… just like before. He hasn’t seen Drew like this since they were in Afghanistan together and Colfer had gotten himself injured. Rick hadn’t trusted the green, sort of nervous looking medic and it was their first day in the field together.

He’d fought the medic, and Drew had shut him down, throwing a knife into the chest of oncoming hostile and telling him to “Get off my ass and let me do my damn job.”

Rick nodded and closed his mouth, letting Drew examine him, what had once been his leg, the rest of him, watching Rick’s face for any sign of pain. It didn’t take long to find the large bruise on his side the fact that the bandages were askew, and not tight enough.

Drew left for a moment and they said nothing while Drew made him take his pain meds and set to work on his leg. It didn’t take long for it to feel better.

Drew stood up and looked at him, “Take you pain meds.”

He covered Rick’s mouth before he could protest, “Right now, you’re my patient and I’m telling you to take your pain meds. No questions. I will shove them down your throat, Rick.”

Rick’s eye widened, because he’d never seen Drew angry, but this wasn’t quite anger. There was barely there restraint, his hand was still shaking and in all the years they’d been together, he still hadn’t figured out the source of that shaking… why it took so long before Drew would say anything… why more often than not he just wouldn’t say anything.

He gave a stiff nod and Drew shoved them in his jacket pocket.

He’s ready to run from the room when Rick calls his name. Drew stopped, his body flinching at the words that are sure to come.

_You aren’t shit._

_Worthless-_

“Thanks.”

Drew feels a small smile, “I love you.”

“Me too.”

*

When TC walks into the ER, he’s wearing the same thing he left in. Jordan is standing by the front desk as he grins at Jayden behind the desk.

“Happy Christmas, Jayden,” he greeted. “Jordan.”

Jayden rolled her eyes, “Your Irish is showing, TC.”

Jordan smiled at him, “Merry Christmas, had a good one?”

He nodded with a grin, “A great one.”

“Was there eggnog involved?” Jayden asked.

“Yes, but non-alcoholic,” he said. “And extremely fluffy pancakes.”

“You went home?” Jordan asked, her eyes wide.

He nodded and grinned, “Yeah.”

“That’s great,” she said smiling at him.

“It was,” he grinned, before turning to steal Halle from the path she was walking on and pull her up against him.

“TC,” she said with a smile looking up at him. “Had a good Christmas?”

“Yes,” he said with a grin. “Thank you.”

She nodded, “Better than you thought wasn’t it?”

“Much better,” he said. “I have a niece.”

Halle’s eyes widened a bit as TC smiled at her, “Yeah.”

Halle pulled him close, squeezing him tightly, “That’s awesome.”

He nodded nuzzled her with a deep breath, “Thank you, for bullying me.”

She laughed and nudged him, “I did not bully you, but I will as shift is about to start.”

He laughed and Jordan tilted her head at the sound of it. It was bright, honestly happy without the tinge of depression or wry sarcasm. This was the TC that she’d dated in college, there as if the years in the army hadn’t happened, as if they were in his tiny apartment in Maryland pouring over books together.

She watched them walk towards the locker room together, hearing him talk about Christmas back home and fighting over the apple syrup with his brother.

“You would think he’d let me win.”

“Would you let you win?”

“Nope.”

They make change for shift, take their leave of one another and both of them seem to be full of that holiday spirit. For the first time since TC has started working at San Antonio Memorial, the holidays pass without much excitement. Cindy grinned.

“Nothing but warm fuzzies here.”

TC finds himself in his extremely obscure office working through the rest of the list and whatever project has fallen on his desk. Before he knows it, it’s New Year’s Eve and he hasn’t seen Halle or Jayden all shift.

“They switched shifts to go to Houston,” Kenny explained. “Got to visit the fam’.”

TC nodded and looked at Kenny, “Are we alright, Kenny?”

Kenny regarded him and let out a deep breath, “Halle’s great TC… and if you two are good, then that’s great too, but…”

TC tilted his head and waited for Kenny to finish his thought.

“I can’t help thinking that it’s not gonna work out.”

TC nodded, it was a fair feeling, “That’s fair.”

“I care about both you, I just don’t want you two to… you know crash and burn.”

What he meant was he didn’t want TC to burn Halle and crash them both the way he’d crashed and burned his relationship with Jordan. It was a fair thing to say.

“Okay.”

And that seemed to be it. TC found himself at Cindy’s desk who gave him that knowing smile.

“The fuzzies are strong with you,” she said and he laughed.

“Thanks Cindy. Could I have those charts please?”

She handed them over and waved him goodbye watching him carry his thermos down the hall, smile at doctor in cardiology, chat with a janitor or two and continue down the hall.

It was rather quiet until Halle and Jayden got back from their New Year’s trip laughing with plenty of stories to tell about New Year’s shenanigans with the Martin and Thomas family.

“What on earth are you talking about?” Kenny asked.

“Kenny, you wouldn’t understand. You are an only child… Halle here is the youngest of sixteen children and has about twenty something cousins.”

He seemed to pale at those words, “How…”

“Dad got around, but that’s nothing new.”

She’d been talking with her Aunt about the Fall Out Boy concert in mid-January that was completely sold out when argument had started up between her cousins over a guy they’d both slept with, which turned into a fight. The guy in question was drunk and present, it was generally a New Year’s Shit Show.

“You’re right,” Kenny said. “I can’t even imagine.”

“Visiting them is always guaranteed to be drama, don’t worry your faded head about it Kenny. Just be grateful that your family is nothing like that.”

He nodded, “Thank you, Jesus.”

*

“I don’t need you, I’m not helpless.”

Drew’s insides flinch at the words, clench and shake. He feels nauseous like the world is spinning between his ears and there’s not solid ground. His hands quake and Rick is there glaring at him as he stares at a loss for words a great pressure on his chest forcing the scream down, down, down and the memories to the surface.

_I don’t need you or that little shit you call a son!_

“I don’t want you helping me. To do anything, I don’t need you to.”

_I don’t love you anymore._

_Stop trying to make everything better—you can’t!_

His heart is thudding in his chest, his ears, and he closes his fist against the shaking that’s rising, rushing through him alighting all those memories he’d thought had been laid to rest. The words ricochet and light up the darkness that he worked for years to manage, to quiet so he could speak.

“I’ll take the meds, just leave me alone.”

“Okay,” he said and closed his mouth, containing the other words he wants to say.

_Love me._

_Please, anything you want._

_Please don’t leave me alone._

_Everything, even if it destroys me…_

He stepped back, turned around, closed the door and forced his feet to move away from Rick’s room and towards the bathroom they shared. His hand shut the door, locked it. His body turned towards the shower and stepped in.

 _Cold_.

He thought, turning the knob all the way to the right until the steam is thick and the water is scalding. He feels the burn from far away like a torch. It’s so hot that it turns his skin pink, drenching his clothing, but he can’t hear anything over the sound of screaming and his silent sobbing, his own cries of pain echoing from years ago. He curled up, as small as he could beneath the spray, shaking and hugging his knees, rocking in that old familiar way.

_Don’t make a sound, Andrew._

_Don’t be bad, Andrew._

_Be quiet, Andrew._

_You’ll only make it worse, Andrew._

He smothers the whimpers of pain, deep in his tiny chest, squeezing his knees to his chest on the small nest of blankets in the closet he lives in. They’re screaming outside the door, about him, about them, whiskey slurs and scotch yelling. He tells himself to block it out, to block it all out, the screaming, the pain, the worry. His teachers called them to tell them that he should be in a remedial class because he can’t do his homework, because he flinches when they get near, because he can’t make his fingers hold the pencil without crying. The door slams shut, echoing and the door to the closet opens. His mother’s hand on his arm, dragging him out and throwing him on the yard into the dark of the night. Pain shooting through him, blossoming, reopening barely healed wounds, a broken sob coming from him as tires squeal away in the driveway.

_Get the fuck out here, you little shit!_

_You wanted him so much take him with you!_

_I don’t want you._

_I never wanted you._

_You ruined my life just like your father!_

His phone rings, startling him into now, loud enough to be heard over the shower. It’s the hospital. He turned off the shower and reached for it to answer.

The voicemail is from Jordan, saying that if he’s available could he be on call today? The day shift is short staffed. He called her back to tell her that he’ll head back soon. He forced himself to stand, his body to peel off his soaked clothing, all the way until he’s naked.

He doesn’t look at himself in the mirror, nothing but muscle and scars there that he doesn’t want to remember how he got. He wrapped a towel around his waist and walked to his bedroom to get dressed and pack a bag: underwear, a toothbrush, and clothes—the essentials.

“I’ll be on a double, call if you need anything while I’m out,” he said on the way to the door.

Rick said nothing, laying on the couch beneath a thick blanket. He knows that Rick won’t say anything, but he’s hoping against the voices in his head that sound like Rick, like his mother, like his father.

_You’re smothering me._

_I don’t love you anymore._

_I don’t want to be with you._

_You’re fucked up._

_Leave me alone._

_You’re worthless._

_Useless._

_Just die, you little shit!_

_My life would be better without you._

“ _I love you,_ ” he managed, his heart shaking, but he bolts out of the door before he can hear anything being said. It’s a coward’s move, he knew, but hearing nothing, hearing anything that Rick had to say that wouldn’t be “I love you too” or “Be safe” would have killed him. Afraid of the silence that would follow, or the words that don’t mirror his own that would come, afraid to stay because he can’t—he won’t go back to living like that, not even for Rick…

_You deserve to be alone._

_You ruin everything you touch._

_The world would be a better place without you._

He pulls over to catch his breath around the panic rising in his throat and shut his eyes think of TC and Gwaine and Thad and Regina, of blueberry and chocolate pancakes and grape juice, of hugs and celtic stars on top of the Christmas tree.

He holds Regina’s words in his mind until he can breathe again and trust himself to drive to the hospital and make it in one piece. Then it’s the fray and everything’s a maddened rush and he doesn’t have time to think about the proper way to slice an artery so he bled out faster than TC could suture.

*

Halle came jogging in, carrying her tote, looking as if she’d just strolled out of a sportswear commercial. Her class ran over and as much as she would love to go home and shower, she didn’t have the time.

When she entered the locker room, TC was there, sitting by her locker looking more pensive than she’d ever seen in.

“T? You okay?”

He looked up at her and immediately the expression changed to that barely simmering look as his eyes skimmed the seam of her running tights.

“Well hello…”

She snorted and opened her locker, dodging his hand and swatting it out of the air with a laugh. He hissed and pouted a bit.

“They’re so…”he said, “tight.”

“They should be,” she told him. “They’re running tights.”

He let out a low grunt as she opened her bag and pulled out a towel and shower shoes, unlacing her tennis shoes.

“What are you doing here so early? Or you didn’t leave?”

“I left,” he said. “But I have plans.”

“Plans that involve sitting by my locker?”

“Yes.”

Something in his tone made her heart stutter, but before she could say anything to potentially make the situation awkward, she shuffled in her shower shoes, sports bra, and tights to the nearest shower stall.

Once he heard the shower running he tilted his head, “Does that mean you workout a la commando?”

She laughed, loud and he heard something like feet sliding across tile.

“TC, I swear if I fall—”

“I promise to protect your dignity,” he said solemnly.

“All I ask is that you keep yourself from molesting me until after you’re sure I’m alright.”

“I’d wait until you were conscious,” he said. “Consent is sexy.”

She only shook her head, scrubbing off the smell of workout and gym. When she walked back out in her shower shoes, blotting the water from her face, she had an odd shine to her.

“Oil,” she said at his look of confusion. “Try not to let your head explode.”

He grinned as she lay the towel down on the bench and took a seat facing her locker. It was a purple set of delicate lace and artistry.

“How much underwear do you have? I have yet to meet the same set twice…. Not for lack of trying of course.”

She looked at him with a wry smile, “Wouldn’t you like to know?”

“Any chance I could see that emerald set again? Or the red…?”

She glowered at him. He grinned at her as she pulled the pump bottle of body butter down from her locker and started to apply it.

“Need help?”

“You’d like that wouldn’t you?”

“I would.”

She looked at him, rubbing her hands together, “What’s going on? You’re acting a bit strange.”

He blew out a breath, “I have a present for you.”

“Christmas is over.”

“And I still have a present for you,” he said. “I also have some things to say, but first… what are you doing tomorrow after shift?”

She shrugged, “Nothing, unfortunately. Why?”

“Saturday? Sunday?”

She shook her head, “Nothing even more unfortunately.”

He nodded and cleared his throat, “I just want to start off by saying that that wasn’t how I imagined our first time together going.”

She froze then, hand stopping over her knees and looked at him, “What?”

“I didn’t—intend for that to happen the way it did…I imagined more of a Marvin Gaye, En Vogue, hardcore 90s kind of deal not a quick fix before returning to the fray.”

“What do you know about En Vogue?”

He grinned, “Beautiful women with strong voices?”

She stifled a laugh because yes… that would be his main concern.

“I had a plan… and even though I’ve obviously… deviated from that plan, I’m hoping the ending is the same…”

“Just to be clear though,” he said. “I regret nothing.”

“And I don’t sleep with just anyone,” she said. “Let alone give away any firsts…”

He looked at her almost horrified, paling, it was almost enough to make her laugh, “Wha-what?”

She grinned, “Never had a quickie before. I can see why they’re popular.”

All of the air deflated out of him and he pressed a hand to his heart as Halle laughed at him.

“You can’t do that, Halle. You have eight brothers and Kenny may be mentally adopting you as the little sister he never had… You scared the hell out of me.”

“Serves you right for all your mischief.”

“Are we even now?”

“No.”

“Could we ever be?”

“Highly doubtful.”

“Anyway,” he started, “I was hoping I still had a chance.”

“Chance…?” Halle questioned feeling her heart hammering in her chest, sure that TC could hear it, sitting so close.

“I want to date you, Halle,” he said.

His cheeks are hot and god does he feel like the kid in high school who hadn’t grown into himself trying to ask a cheerleader out to dinner. She’d said yes he was sweating bullets while trying to be cool about it. He got points for being “cute” apparently. His heart is racing and the world is silent enough, waiting for Halle to answer.

“Date?”

“Like romantically,” he said with a wry grin. “Date as in S.O.P. dictates the rank of “boyfriend”.”

She licked her lips and regarded him, looking at him as he met her eyes, trying to see something that may or may not have been there on her face. TC was honest, painfully honest with people, but not transparent. It had taken some studying to figure out his tells, but there were none besides the fact that he was nervous, a little fearful and forcing himself not to fidget under her gaze.  Somehow, he probably felt more naked than she did and she was in her underwear.

“Well… the position is open,” she said with a grin. “Probation period is thirty days though.”

“Can we void that since I’ve been interning for the position for a couple of months?”

She snorted, “I’ll consider it.”

“Do you take bribes?”

“Depends…” she said. “Make me an offer I can’t refuse.”

She almost flinched at the predatory look in his eyes, the grin that grew across his face.

“Can’t refuse, huh?” He said. “Challenge accepted.”

He turned then to straddle the bench bringing an envelope to lay between them.

“You’ve insulted my honor as a man of grand romantic gestures,” he said. “ _Grand, sweeping_ romantic gestures.”

She shrugged, “Are we going to duel?”

“With our tongues maybe,” he said. “Later, definitely, but for now you will surrender the title rightfully owed to me.”

She laughed as he opened the envelope and pulled out two tickets. It took a moment to stop laughing and read the words printed.

_Fall Out Boy_

“How…”

“Ah, ah,” he said, pulling out a lanyard mark VIP and dangling in her face, “ _Grand and sweeping._ ”

“How… did you get… these…?”

They’d been sold out since the day they went on sale. It had been the most crushing defeat in her life given that she’d been pulled into surgery a mere minute before the tickets went live and didn’t get out till eight hours later…She’d cried real tears, yet TC had bought tickets… a backstage pass…

“How?”

“I know people,” he said. “Who know people. So, about that voiding that probationary period…”

She tilted her head, “I suppose I can let you slide since you’ve shown such dedication.”

“That’s what I’m talking about,” he grinned. “Now about that duel…”

“What?”

He only drew her forward, a hand cupping the back of her neck, tongue sliding along the seam of her lips until she melted and opened her mouth. It really wasn’t fair. His twin had kissing down to an art form and had been more than happy to tutor him in return for Seducing Caresses 101. They were formidable, and when determined, as determined as he was, it should have been illegal.

Or rather, the look on her face when he’d had just enough of a taste should have been illegal. Pupils blown wide, eyes low and hazy, she looked as though she’d just been fucked out of her mind and he’d just kissed her. Whoever had come before him just hadn’t been doing right.

“You okay?”

She nodded slowly and turned to get dressed.

“You know that means you can’t avoid me right?” TC said, “Also you can’t take it back… no way in hell am I releasing this rank.”

She looked at him oddly, if only because it was such a strange thing to say.

“The fact that you think I would take it back is a problem,” she said. “But I’m not going to ask because I’m in my underwear and shift is going to start soon.”

He nodded and got up, letting her get dressed and going to change before Kenny showed up to get changed, greeting them both and eyeing them with curiosity. He doesn’t say anything, but continues watching them over the shift.

“Wear something hot,” TC told her in the break room as he filled up his mug. “That you can ride a bike in.”

She scoffed, “We could just take my car.”

“Sweetheart,” he said, taking the chance to draw her closer, arm around her waist. “Call it a requirement of my employment—you’re going to have to ride the bike at least fifty percent of the time.”

“At least?”

“I even bought you a helmet,” he said. “A custom one.”

She shook her head, “You know it does lay down don’t you?”

He looked at her hair, the thickness of it and the style. Long twists that were just below her shoulder blades when down and in the large dutch braid she had them in a little shorter… Yeah, laying down or not a custom helmet was going to be necessary.

“Yeah… you’ll see.”

He stole a kiss from her and she barely escaped his wandering hands before ducking out of the breakroom to go do her rounds. She thought she’d escaped, but TC knew better. Drew wanders in down the hallway and TC falls into step with him.

“Hey Drew,” he greeted, clapping him on the shoulder. “How’s it going?”

“Okay.”

TC swallowed and he feels the way Drew tenses under his touch—not good. Maybe worse than he thought.

“So Rick’s getting better, huh?”

“Yeah… he’s doing a lot better. Starting physical therapy soon.”

“That’s good,” TC said with a nod. “That’s awesome… You okay?”

“I’m… I’m fine, T.”

TC sighed, “Alright, let’s try this again—You and Rick are fighting aren’t you?”

“We’re not fighting,” Drew said softly.

“You’re certainly not talking… that’s as close as it gets for you.”

“It’s not…” he shook his head, “It’s nothing.”

_I lost a leg—I’m not helpless, Drew._

_Stop trying to make everything better. You can’t._

His hands shook and he swallowed thickly remembering the way Rick was sprawled out on the floor after he’d lost his grip on a crutch on the way to the kitchen. He’d wanted to help, wanted to check, him but the man had pushed his hands away.

_Leave me alone, Drew. I can take care of myself._

He’d tried to help and yelled at for his efforts.

_I said, I’m fine!_

TC watched the shudder go through Drew, the ways his arms folded over his chest to keep him from shaking. He’s gotten paler in the last few seconds and he knows it’s just a conditioned response to shock now, trying to show a brave face just before he crashed.

For just a moment, they’re in their sixth grade class room again with that witch Ms. Stephens who yelled at him, fighting to prove herself a strong teacher, and refusing to let any kid act out. Drew had been in the middle of a panic attack after some little bastard said something that he was lucky Gwaine and TC didn’t hear, ran himself into a corner and went stone silent, quiet, growing paler by the second as she yelled. Gwaine and TC stepped in front of her, shielding him. Regina had raised hell about the whole incident and they’d been suspended for a week because of it, rewarded with a week of tag along with Mom, hot chocolate and snuggles on the couch watching movies.

“Yeah….” TC nodded. “You’re lying. And it’s okay that you’re lying… I just wanted it to be clear that I know you are.”

“Okay,” he said stiffly.

“That’s… not better. You want me to go punch him?”

“TC,” he pleaded, a little helpless sound that made TC even angrier because Drew had come so far, gone through so much that he didn’t deserve this from a man who swore he loved Drew. The same man who Drew opened himself up to public ridicule for…

“What? I can’t have you looking like this. Making yourself sick. Sure, most people can’t tell, but I, after so many years of living with you, can definitely tell. And after seeing you two at Christmas… obviously something is wrong. You’re lucky mom hasn’t called you.”

Drew shook his head, “I just... I don’t know what to do… Rick—I just want to give him his space.”

“You want to give him his space, you are giving him space, or he’s taking his space, Drew? I know you.”

Drew winced, because he was right. After the third time, Drew had trained himself not to say anything, but to take the stealthiest peek possible whenever Rick fell, making sure he could stand. He left compresses, pain meds, and food within reach, but he didn’t comment, he didn’t go to him as much as he hated it, as much as it hurt to hear him in pain and pretend to ignore it. He felt helpless, like he did when he was a kid just trying to disappear into a corner.

“We’ve known each other way too long…”

“Way too long,” Drew repeated.

“I…” Drew sat down in a chair and took a deep, struggling breath. “I… don’t know anymore. I can’t tell.”

“Did you two argue?”

“Not really.”

“Let me try that again—“

“Goddamn it, TC.”

“Did he say something?”

Drew shut his mouth, “Maybe.”

He nodded.

“I came back right after shift ended this morning…”

“Why?”

“Because… I want to help… and he doesn’t want it.”

“Jesus Christ, Drew… you sure you don’t want me to punch him in the face?”

“Yes, I’m sure.” Drew said and took another shuddering breath. “He said… leave him alone. That I was coddling him, that he wasn’t helpless… that he didn’t… need me.”

TC’s eye widened and he bit his lip, he was going to kill Rick if it was the last thing he did. “Drew, that’s not—”

“I know,” he said stiffly. “It still…”

“I know.”

“Come here,” he said, “You sure that you don’t want me to kick his ass?”

“Yes, TC…”

Drew stepped into his arms just like always. He’s a lot bigger than when they were kids, but he still feels so small… He still remembers Drew’s tiny voice, coming from behind his mother in the kitchen, peaking around her at the twins, the baby sitter, and Thad. It feels like sweet peppery eggs, pancakes that are more shell than cake, and a pound of bacon: good intentions.

“We should get breakfast, blueberry and chocolate pancakes fix everything.”

Drew smiled helplessly, “Yeah… That’d be good.”

They get breakfast at the old diner they frequented as children with Regina, Thad, and Gwaine.  It doesn’t fix everything, but it sure as hell keeps the cold away and that’s more than Drew could hope for. He manages to go home, not completely exhausted. Rick is still asleep in his room, his medication on his bedside table. He’s kicked the sheets off and is shivering.

“ _Leave me…_ ” he said and Drew swallowed walking in to pull the blanket over him, tuck him in and kiss his cheek.

“We’ll… be alright won’t we?” He asked, maybe Rick, but maybe more for himself.

 _It’ll all be all right,_ he thought, more convinced of it than he had been in months. As soon as the VA got off their asses anyway.


	12. Bring Home The Boys And Scrap Scrap Metal The Tanks

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Yet again.. alteringviews has no relationship with the angst cake that is Drew's life.

Merlin was used to waking up along, but not naked. Definitely not feeling like he’d been running all night, and definitely not under just a sheet. He slept with at least three blankets on his bed just to keep warm, so of course he wonders if he was actually awake at all.

It’s the sight of finger shaped bruises on his hips that makes him smile and realize that he’s in Gwaine’s condo, in San Antonio… and last night, after Christmas, Gwaine and set about making up for lost time… starting in the shower.

His skin felt sensitive as the memories from the night before flickered and played in high definition. He wrapped his arms around himself, drawing the sheet up his waist and breathing deeply.

That… that had happened. All that… had happened.

After some careful maneuvering, because Gwaine was a little more than a thorough lover, he managed to get out of bed and slide on a pair of sweatpants that were sitting on the dresser.

There was a voice coming from down the hall that he recognized immediately: Gwaine on the phone. Maybe it was business, may be it was something else—

“I’ll be sure to return him in one piece, Princess, so long as you understand that it’s a very high interest loan.”

 _Arthur…_ Merlin shook his head. It was never good when Arthur was talking with Gwaine. There was something fundamental about the man that had always pushed Arthur’s buttons… something about Gwaine that had always loved to push his buttons… creating an endless loop of frustration.

“And there’s my wizard, later princess.” He clicked the off button and Merlin could only imagine that Arthur had been in the middle of talking still because the phone began to ring and Gwaine hit end with a grin.

“Must you aggravate him?” Merlin asked with a humorous smile.

“Must you be so creamy in the morning?”

“I’m this creamy all the time.”

Gwaine groaned, “Good thing that it’s almost time for coffee.”

Merlin flushed, but couldn’t protest fast enough to keep Gwaine from tugging him forward and pinning him bodily to the counter, his tongue in his mouth and his hands roaming, those gentle and promising caresses that made Merlin’s already taxed nerves light up. He cried out at the strength and speed of his arousal earning Gwaine’s grin.

“So creamy,” he said softly tugging Merlin’s sweatpants down and lifting him up to angle himself inside. Merlin gasped, clutching the other’s shoulders, as Gwaine rolled his hips just the way Merlin liked.

“Gwaine!”

Gwaine grinned, pulling him closer to her his ankles over his shoulders and his hands on the other’s hips, lining up with the bruises he’d left from the night before.

“I’m going to have to be more careful, would hate it if someone thought I was abusing you…”

“Liar,” Merlin gasped, holding on for dear life as Gwaine thrust into him, leaving him no chance or ability to cushion the thrust, to avoid his cock striking his prostate dead on every time. Gwaine hadn’t had the chance to learn his body in the life before, but in this one… it seemed that he’d been a quick study because  Merlin’s coming in his arms before Gwaine is even halfway to his breaking point. It’s then that the door opened and in strolled TC, giving a dazed wave before narrowing his eyes and grinning with an approving nod.

 _Go Gwaine_ , he continued down the hall to shower as Gwaine held Merlin still, coming in him as Merlin screamed, his fingernails digging into Gwaine’s shoulders and panting, shaking.

“Good?” Gwaine rasped against his neck, kissing it gently.

“G-Good…” Merlin said softly. Gwaine slid out of him as gently as possible, still hard as he set Merlin on the counter and tugged his pants back over his hips.

“You okay?” Gwaine asked, lifting his face to get a good look at him. His eyes were hazy, his cheeks flushed, he was absolutely gorgeous with his blue eyes now a set of tiny rings of azure around his pupils.

Gwaine wished he’d had more time to make sure he always looked like that…

“I’… okay… was that… necessary?”

He grinned and kissed Merlin’s cheek before turning and sliding his own sweatpants over his fully erect cock with a hiss.

“Always,” he said, moving towards the stove. “Breakfast?”

Merlin nodded, accepting the mug Gwaine passed him that read “I’m too cool to care” filled with tea, just the way he liked it: honey not sugar, milk not cream. Merlin knew that Gwaine’s mug was filled with coffee with cream and sugar. He made another mug of tea, chamomile with something else from the smell and Merlin blushed.

“When did TC get here?”

“Sometime after I got your pants down.”

He could have punched him, but since the man was currently manning the stove and making hash, a secret love that Gwaine had forced upon Merlin in college, he didn’t. A stack of pancakes later, three plates and hash, TC appeared showered and dressed for bed in loose Calvin Klein boxers and a loose tank top.

“For modesty,” he said with a wink. “I usually sleep naked.”

“Is that a twin thing?” Merlin asked looking between the two of them.

They looked at each other and grinned, “Maybe.”

*

Cold.

It’s the first thought of the morning nowadays. The pillow he has crushed against him is cold, the bed is cold and he can hear Rick crutching around in the living room.

Alone, he thinks, crushing the pillow tighter against his chest and takes another shuddering breath. Once he stands, he walks to the closet to get dressed for the day, get ready to head in, before walking out to see Rick balancing himself in the kitchen. His back is turned and Drew tries to breathe around the tension in his chest.

 _Breathe_ , he reminded himself and walked forward to wrap his arms around Rick and kiss the back of his neck.

“Good evening,” he whispered, taking a breath.

Rick’s body is tense in his arms, arms focused on trying to keep himself balanced.

“Evening,” he replied and Drew swallowed thickly.

_Leave me alone._

_I don’t want you here._

_I hate you!_

“Sleep well?”

“Well enough.”

“Hungry? I could—”

“I’m fine.”

It’s his voice that does it. Drew pulled back, stilled his jaw from trembling. He feels the rushing in his ears, his insides twisting and knows another word will end in a fight. The Vicodin makes him nauseous, the Zofran wasn’t helping it. With the pain going away, he knew that Rick had all but stopped taking everything except the antibiotics. He’d been keeping meals down so Drew hadn’t called him out on it.

At least, not yet.

“Okay,… I’ll make something quick then, got some things to take care of before shift anyway.”

Rick nodded stiffly and turns, swinging his body around to crutch out of the kitchen. Drew bites his lip, pulling out ingredients from the refrigerator, his eyes burn and everything is blurry, but he grabs for things anyway. Eggs, tomatoes, random vegetables.

He doesn’t say that he’s going to make lunch and dinner either, enough for both of them. Rick doesn’t comment on the smells wafting through the apartment. When it’s all done, he packs it up and slides it into the refrigerator. He tells him he loves him, wants to hold him, but Rick has curled into himself on the couch, pain silent. He leaves Rick’s medication, refilled, on the counter. He knows the other hasn’t been taking the pain meds, which is only adding to the issue, but he can only breathe and leave the apartment feeling like a coward.

He leaves another message for the doctor at the VA who would be signing the referral to stave off the guilt.

When no one answers the call, Drew almost breaks into tears because _fucking hell_ … what else can he do?

*

Drew poked his head in and TC’s eyes narrowed. He’s pale and while Drew had been getting more and more pale, he was paler than usual, a tinge to his eyes that meant he was nearing a breaking point.

“Jordan’s looking for you. She’s in her office.”

“That’s great, come here Drew.”

He hesitated but stepped in, “What is it?”

Drew didn’t look at him and TC let out a breath.

“We’re going to talk about this, come to my office when you get a chance, kay?”

Drew nodded and quickly marched out of the room. TC regarded his tea, added creamer, and huffed. He was drinking his tea like Halle made it for him. The woman had invaded his life in every way possible in all the best ways he’s sure.

He closed his thermos and headed out towards Jordan’s office. He stopped by his own to pick up the OP report list and all of the Audit remarks he’d made before leaning against the wall beside her office and waited for her to finish her conversation with a doctor from another department before knocking.

“You wanted to see me?” TC asked as the man left and remaining in the doorway.

She looked at him and nodded, “Yes, the audit—“

He stepped forward to lay the binders on her desk.

“Done.”

“Oh…and—”

“In there too,” he said. “Typed ‘cause I’m not sure if I trust my own handwriting.”

“Awesome,” she said. “Thanks… this is a huge help.”

He nodded, “Great. Well if that’s all…”

He turned to leave only to stop at her request. The door remained open, people passing by outside as he turned and lifted his thermos to take a sip. He isn’t sure what he’s feeling at the moment… anxiety or something, but his insides are quaking and the screaming is back. The sips of tea ease it a bit, to a dull roar but present.

“You need something?”

“Take a seat, TC,” she said. “I wanted to talk to you about these.”

He walked forward and took a seat in the chair across from her, sipping slowly as she opened the report.

“Tell me about them, your general impression,” she said.

TC frowned, “There’s a summary.”

She looked at him, “I know that, but I want your opinion.”

“Medically?”

“Of course.”

“Technique,” he said. “Most of it came down to technique.”

Jordan listened to him explain what he meant by that it was like stepping back into his tiny apartment near John Hopkins campus, through the years, listening to him, learning from him as TC just had a way of explaining things. He sounds a bit like he did then too: focused, intelligent, and capable.

“I see…” TC nodded and moved to stand, “Wait. There’s something else that I wanted to talk to you about TC.”

He sunk back into the chair almost warily, “Is this the part where you tell me Ragosa has finally decided to fire me?”

“No,” she said. “The Hospital Board is… looking into how we’re using our resources… essentially, auditing us to see where we’re lacking. The official audit hasn’t started yet, and won’t for a while I think, but they are looking into developing more training for the doctors at large and…they’ve asked heads of departments and shift heads to put forth a few names to sit on the steering committee.”

He blinked, sipped and waited for her to finish.

“I put you down as my recommendation.”

TC blinked, _shit._ “Any chance you can withdraw that?”

“I submitted it a few months ago… before I gave you the audit list.”

He choked on a laugh. He knew there was something strange about the whole thing. There was no way that he couldn’t have been on that list.

“So who finished the rest of the list? The reports probably won’t add up.”

Jordan shook her head, “You had the full list, TC.”

Well wasn’t that un-fucking-believable?

“I’m not sure what I’m supposed to say here,” TC said honestly.

“I’m not asking you to say anything… I just wanted you to be aware before the Board came.”

Jordan looked up to see Scott standing in the doorway looking between them. His cheeks are flushed and Jordan winced internally. Shit.

“Fine,” TC said, taking another drink. “When’s that supposed to be?”

“We don’t know yet, but I’ll keep you posted.”

“Cool, well until then. Later, Jordan.”

He stood and turned, a little shocked to see Scott here, “Dr. Clemmens.”

“TC,” he grit out and let TC slide by him.

He didn’t want to get in the middle of whatever was going on between them and being the usual source of conflict, there was no way to avoid it now. He only prayed that Scott had only heard the tail end of that conversation. He didn’t look back but walked straight to the nurse’s station, grabbed his charts, a tablet, and moved on. He didn’t really want to be anywhere near Scott or Ragosa at the moment.

“You alright?” Topher asked seeing him taking a deep breath, leaning against a wall.

“Does she understand how difficult she makes it for me here?”

Topher laughed, “Probably not… and even if she did, after everything that’s gone on between you two, you kind of don’t have the right to complain.”

TC’s lips twitched, a dark laugh came from him, “Yeah. Guess you’re right.”

Later, Drew steps into TC’s office long enough to let TC hug him, steady him, and tell him that he loved him and everything would be alright.

“Talk to me Drew, don’t bottle this up.” He said softly. “You’re my brother.”

Drew nodded, “I just… need some time.”

“Okay,” TC said, “But if it gets any worse, I’m calling a house meeting.”

Drew laughed and it felt like the first one in months.

*

On Friday, TC arrived first, changed, beside himself grinning because he and Halle would finally get some time together that wasn’t a ten minute rendezvous in the closet, naps, or locker room banter.

“Damn…” It was Kenny’s voice and he turned to see her strutting in as if she’s walked right out of a music video involving a motorcycle babe, because holy shit did she fit the look. Blood red crop top, leather pants, so tight they looked painted on.  Flat boots and a close fitted jacket. She carried a backpack today and her hair was braided down flat.

“How’s this for at least fifty percent?”

“Changing my mind,” TC said with a shake of his head. “I’m upping it to ninety.”

She snorted, “Not on your life.”

“Didn’t know you rode,” TC said looking at the quality of her leather. They weren’t just for show, but real riding. She grinned at him.

“I’ve done a lot of things.”

He grinned at her and watched her walk to the locker room. He had plans for her in and out of those leather pants.

When the shift ends, he meets her in the front watching her walk down the hall towards him with a grin, because she’s beautiful and badass. He caught her hand and guided her towards the Harley. Shoving his messenger bag into one of the saddlebags and climbing on handing her the custom helmet.

She almost laughed at him and slid it on her head, before climbing on behind him as he slid on his helmet and groaned.

“Ninety-five.”

She swatted him and pressed herself against him, arms around his waist as he started up the engine and guided the bike out of the parking lot towards Austin. The drive is just short of peaceful and they arrive long before check-in. They catch breakfast at a biker friendly restaurant and make fun of the disapproving woman behind the bar.

It takes about thirty minutes for someone to approach their table, intending to take Halle home with them and a fight to break out, interestingly enough, it’s between Halle and another woman rather than TC and the man who approached the table.

When it’s over and the woman is clutching her bleeding nose and a shiner is beginning to blossom over her face, TC looked at Halle who straightened her jacket and continued eating her pie with a calmness that isn’t astounding. The man who came over looked at her and she gave him a pointed look because honestly, he probably didn’t want to find out if Halle just looked like she’d stepped out of a martial arts movie, or if everything she’d just done was indicative of worse things.

“Everybody was kung fu fighting,” TC said earning a laugh from her.

“Krav Maga actually,” she said as he took a seat.

“Love a woman who could kick my ass.”

When it’s time to check-in, TC drives them to the hotel. It’s a nice room with a king-sized bed and Halle looked at him.

“Is this an _I want cuddles_?”

He grinned, setting his bag on the floor, “You said cuddles.”

“Significant other.”

“Am I allowed to fondle you now?”

She rolled her eyes, “If you’re nice.”

He hissed, “What entails being nice?”

“Letting me change in peace.”

“I can do that…”

Somehow, she doubted it, but sauntered off into the bathroom anyway. She didn’t have much by way of pajamas, but long t-shirt from her days of having a roommate would have to do. She’d had to drag the damn thing out from beneath a whole lot of stuff to get to it, but there it was. Half-night gown and half sleep shirt. She brushed her teeth and headed out to see him sitting on the bed in just his underwear and a t-shirt, plugging up his phone.

“Setting an alarm for the proper amount of time before the concert. Parking and all that.”

She tumbled into bed with a shriek as he pulled her down and rolled them over, “About that fondling…”

She giggled, but when his hands started to roam it was less giggling and more wiggling, moaning, pleading for him to stop teasing her. When his hand pins her wrists above her head and there’s an edge in his voice as he tells her not to move them, she obeys.

TC grinned and Halle refused to look at him, “Look at me.”

There’s that edge again, just past playful, something darker, something she hadn’t heard in his voice before and it make her look at him, meet his eyes and not squirm when he kiss her lips.

“ _Good girl.”_

Like a switch, her eyes change, warm and needy, gazing at him and it takes everything in TC to hold back because _fuck_ that isn’t what he expected… Though it would explain the sound she made when he smacked her ass during the Quickie-Now-Fondly-Remembered. He does nothing more than that, employing the bass in his voice sporadically and watching her reaction, the way she wiggles and the sound she makes when he teases her.

It’s good… Better than good, amazing and mind-emptying. It’s still not what he imagined for their first time, but it’s much better than a quickie. When she falls asleep, he studies her wondering when would be a good time ask about Halle’s very obvious kink and if she even knew about it. The woman had never had a quickie before, could have been a bit of a stretch to think she wasn’t all vanilla too.

*

Rick cried out. The sound of skin against tile and a sickening thud. Drew was in the kitchen, chopping vegetables. The second thud hadn’t sounded before the knife went clattering to the ground and Drew’s feet rushed across the carpet of the apartment. A million things running through his head—head injury, neck sprain, internal bruising—

“Rick!”

He’s sprawled, naked, gripping the side of the tub, skin still wet from the shower, his cheeks flushed with shame and the heat of the shower. He’s conscious, a bruise blossoming on his hip as Drew’s gentle, panicked, shaking hands drift over him, his eyes look him over searching for injury. His hip is purpling pretty badly from its collision with the side of the bathtub, Rick’s jaw is set in a firm line.

“Rick? Baby, are you okay? Did you—“

Rick pushed his hands away, “I’m fine.”

“Rick…”

“I said I’m fine Drew!”

Rick won’t turn around and Drew’s hands reached out again, but again Rick pushed him away.

“Don’t touch me!”

“I just…okay.”

“That’s it?” Rick asked darkly, looking at him finally. “That’s all you’ve got to say?”

“I… I don’t know what you want from me.”

“Nothing!”

Drew swallowed, blinking feeling the edges of his lips twitch up.

“Why the fuck are you smiling?”

_Why the fuck are you smiling, you little shit? You think its fucking funny?_

_You like it, fucking faggot? Is that it?_

“I…I’m just…”Drew tried, but it was too late, the old habit, the world was growing dark around the edges. Rick grit his teeth hearing him stand and walk out of the bathroom and out of the apartment. He hears his keys, the sound of Drew’s running footsteps down the hall, down the steps. Drew always left, always backed down just before things got heated, like a quiet resignation and he hated it. Hated that Drew had never gotten angry with him, like he didn’t care how horrible Rick was being, like he didn’t care at all.

Maybe he didn’t care after all. Drew was on his way to being a real doctor soon, then off to whatever program in the military, a solid, steady career. Handsome, sweet, funny, awesome guy… plenty of options besides his now gimp boyfriend who couldn’t even go a few hours without feeling pain. He can’t blame him…

Rick would leave him to wallow in his misery too. He’d leave if he could…

He’d… leave.

*

Drew got into his truck and shuts it behind him just before the shaking starts, before the tears start in full effect and he drives, tears streaming down his face. Smile carved on his face like a sick joke. His stomach roils, his chest hurts, he can’t walk into the hospital like this. He just can’t, so takes a right and drives towards the Broadway and prays that TC isn’t home. Logically, he knows that TC and Halle rode into work on his bike a few days ago, but he isn’t sure if TC is actually taking the night off or not.

Gwaine gave him access to the condo as well, he’d even lived there while trying to get his own place. Drew didn’t think he’d ever have to go back to something familiar, but he couldn’t trust himself to be alone right now with these thoughts, going home to the house wasn’t an option either if he didn’t want Regina Brennan to break Rick’s other leg.

_He hates me._

_It’s my fault._

_Such a fuck up, Andrew_

_No one will ever love you, Andrew._

_Everyone would be better off without you, Andrew._

When he parks, he squeezes his eyes shut and hurries out, pressing his badge to the reader and going to the elevator to the top floor.

TC is awake and surprisingly not pacing his bedroom, but relaxed with a cup of tea in his hand as his eyes flicker across the screen, between pages of books, and the latest articles. He has his glasses on, breathing deeply, quietly, and letting his mind absorb information. It’s been so long since he’d had a chance to do so that he forgot how relaxing it was to focus on something.

_Beep._

He reached for the phone because there were only a few people who would call or text him that late at night for anything. It’s a notification from the Broadway’s security system that Andrew Alister had used his key and badge and was on his way up. He walks to the camera system to see Drew walking, empty handed, quick jittering strides towards his door and replies “Confirmed” to let security know that it wasn’t just someone using his badge.

He closed his computer, set his glasses aside and stood to head into the kitchen to set his cup down. The door opened and Drew’s eyes found him coming from the kitchen. TC takes him in with a sweep of his eyes: his cheeks are flushed, eyes red, his chest is heaving, and he’s so pale TC wonders for a moment if he’s sustained some sort of injury. Caught somewhere in between shock and depression, a flashback if TC had to guess. Hearing old demons talking to him with their poison words… he’d come here.

That was at least progress.

TC crossed the space between them as tears rolled down Drew’s face and at first touch watched him crumble to his knees, sobbing that silent sobbing TC hasn’t seen since they were children. It was worse than he thought.

“It’s all my fault,” Drew said softly in that small shuddering voice, shaking. “I just left… I abandoned him…I couldn’t… I didn’t…I—I--”

TC took a deep breath and stepped forward to pull Drew against him, running a hand over his head and shushing him gently.

“That’s not true, Drew,” he said gently. “You did what you had to do for yourself and there’s nothing wrong with that.”

“He needed me TC…”

“You can only extend the hand… and you don’t have to keep extending it, if he’s going to keep fighting it. Okay? “

“But T—“

“No,” TC said, tilting Drew’s face to look up at him. “Look at me and listen. He doesn’t have the right to treat you like this.”

“And you,” Drew opened his mouth. “Ah, ah…you don’t deserve it. Do you understand?”

“Yes.”

TC searched his face for a moment, but found whatever he was looking for, “Good.”

TC nodded, “Now, have you eaten?”

Drew shook his head.

“You’re in luck, I was just getting hungry…”

“Not for sweet eggs I hope.”

He snorted, “Nope… Anytime Pasta.”

Drew swallowed and let TC help him off the ground and on to a bar stool at the island in the kitchen.

“What’s Anytime Pasta?”

“It’s this awesome thing Halle showed me,” he said, his eyes lighting up at the mention of her name as he pulled out a pot and set it on the stove. “Holy God, I wished I’d known about it college.”

“Halle?”

“Yeah…. By God, that woman can cook.”

“Halle’s cooked for you?”

“Yeah, I’ve cooked for her too.”

“Here?”

“Yeah.”

Drew frowned and turned to follow TC around the kitchen and froze seeing the row of glass containers, the percolator. Gwaine had said that it was like the Twilight Zone, but Drew had never seen it until now.

“TC you have containers.”

“Yes.”

“Of pasta.”

“Yeah.”

“Of special pasta.”

“Yeah, it’s really good… It’s all Halle’s fault.” He said, selecting a jar of what looked to be bow ties and opening it. “All of this is Halle’s fault. All of it.”

“You… really have it bad don’t you?”

He sighed, turning on the tap and filling the pot with water, “I thought we were talking about you. Now tell me what’s been going on.”

Drew huffed, frustrated, “It’s just… he… he doesn’t want to talk to me. He doesn’t want me to help… doesn’t seem to want me around either. He fell in the shower.”

TC swallowed the question of “What idiot takes a shower with only one leg?” as it seemed a little harsh and a tad insensitive. He had no idea what it was to lose a leg and try to live like you always did between waiting for the VA to get its shit together, living with a partner who wanted to take care of you, and the guilt of a man in you platoon dying off the battle-field. .

Instead, he asked, “Is he okay?”

“He says he is, he didn’t his head.”

“Well fuck, let him suffer. He’ll figure that shit out.”

“TC,” Drew pleaded.

“Look Drew,” he started turning on the stove and setting the water to boil, before pulling down a chopping board and pulls a knife from the knife block, which also hadn’t been on the counter the last time he came over. Drew’s eyes flicker to the knife as TC sets it down beside the chopping board and leans forward to get his attention off the knife and on to his face. He didn’t need Drew tossed back into his past again as he was pretty sure that the incident with Rick sent him on a trip down memory lane.

TC hated Memory Lane on principle; jackasses and monsters lived on that street.

“As a man that’s had to fall on his face multiple times to get it right—sometimes you have to take the hard road. Sometimes you have to fall on your face, hard, painfully and repeatedly until you learn that you really don’t like it.”

Drew looked at his hands and hears TC move away from the chopping board. He remembered what TC was like after he’d gotten discharged. Drinking himself to slow his reactions down, picking fights with people and hoping to black out soon. He’d gotten considerably better in the past few months. Drew figured it had something to do with sleep and editing out the stress in his life consciously.

Therapy may have also helped.

“You were in the apartment, he knew you were in the apartment, he could have called for help. He could have let you help him off the floor, but he didn’t even when you offered. He has something to prove to himself? Let him prove it, but don’t put yourself in the way to be beaten on every time he falls. When he gets tired of it, he’ll see.”

“Right…”

“Of course when he actually hits his head, obviously you pull the medical professional card, no questions asked, but besides that, let him do what he feels he needs to do and when he gets tired of it, make him grovel.”

Drew snorted at that and TC grinned, good. That’s real progress.

“Now, what do you want in your special pasta?”

“What are my options?”

“Well… let’s see…”

Drew imagines that apples is probably what he’s going to say, maybe some random meat that’s been in the back of the freezer waiting to be cooked for a while because TC straddled the fine line between genius and insanity… more like set up camp on the line and frequently went a little to East. What he isn’t expecting is for TC’s refrigerator and freezer to be fully stocked.

“You… have it really really bad don’t you?”

“Yeah,” TC said with a nod, sighing at the state of his kitchen. It was all Halle’s fault. “We can have special rice and stuff.”

“What is that?”

“Something fantastic that—”

“Halle also showed you?”

“Yes,” he groaned. “Did I say the woman could cook?” He shook his head and moaned, “She made Thai food after this dish we had when we were out and it was _better_ than the restaurant’s version. It was so good… Actually we have leftovers too so if you’d like—“

“We? Did she move in with you?”

TC froze and Drew’s eyes widened, because that wasn’t what he expected at all. The answer should have been simple, but TC’s hesitance meant something was up. Something he’d probably have to get Gwaine to pry out of him because Drew just wasn’t emotionally equipped to pry into TC’s mind at the moment.

“No she didn’t move in with me. That’s—don’t be silly.”

Drew tilted his head and watched the he way the blush spreads over TC’s cheeks and the way he fidgets slightly, trying to pretend like his stomach isn’t churning and his brain isn’t conjuring up the image of waking up to Halle every day.

“Chill,” Drew told him. “It’s cool. I’m in no position to pry right now.”

TC glanced back to see Drew smiling pulling out his phone, “Gwaine however is always in the position to do so.”

“Nosy brothers.”

TC makes an executive decision for seafood Midnight pasta with scallops and arugula in a creamy sauce and they steer away from their romantic relationships.  They talk about what TC’s still doing up, the research he’s been reading about. Drew can’t remember the last time there was the light in the other’s eyes. Before the army? Before Jordan maybe, but he wasn’t entirely sure. They eat talking about everything they can’t while in the hospital, Regina and when Drew is going to just relax and call her Mom consistently. Gwaine and Merlin and how Gwaine is probably planning to convince Drew and Rick to have a foursome with them.

“God help us,” Drew said with a shake of his head as TC laughed. “Does he ever stop?”

“Nope.”

“How I made it out of that house without having sex with either of you, I’ll never know.”

TC grinned, “You were a tenacious one. Thank god for alcohol.”

Drew flushed and shook his head. TC’s devilish grin was something just short of embarrassing because Drew knows exactly what the “Emperor of Caress” was thinking and how tenacious his twin the “Emperor of Kissing” could be. It had been a particularly bad break up for Drew. He’d been on leave, planning to introduce his boyfriend to TC and Gwaine when Drew found the STI medication in the bathroom. He hadn’t been searching for it, but it was in the cabinet with toothpaste and apparently the man thought Drew was an idiot as well as blind.

The argument had sent Drew rushing out the door with all of his things and going straight to TC’s hotel. He’d been in town for a medical conference. He’d gotten a tad drunk and it all came pouring out… among other things, and then he woke up feeling extremely sated, relaxed, warm, and curled up in bed.

TC was on the phone with Gwaine, carrying breakfast in while on the phone and it only took sitting up to figure out and remember exactly what TC had done to him. 

“I’m …never going to live that down am I?”

“Not until Gwaine fucks you no,” he said with a grin.

Drew shook his head, he didn’t know which brother would be worse, but did his best not to think of it. Borrowing TC’s old sweatpants, underwear, and a t-shirt, Drew showered and crawled onto the couch with TC to watch a movie. All they were missing was pie, ice cream, Gwaine, Thad, and Regina and it would be like stepping into the past.

He dreamed of middle school, crouching down in the middle of the playground, covering his ears as kids pushed and yelled at him. The way Gwaine had tackled the one who’d kicked him in the leg and TC had slammed into another. Regina had been there to pick them up early, going outside to see the fight just as it got started. She lifted him from the ground, held him close, got Gwaine and TC off the kids they were brawling with and transferred them classes because how the hell didn’t the teacher notice that Drew was being bullied?

He woke up to the smell of pancakes, eggs, steaks, and home, swaddled in so many blankets he knew TC thought he’d been going into shock. There’s a cup of grape juice on the low table in front of the couch and he smiled. The day ahead seemed almost easy as TC told him that he had the whole day off planned filled with fun and adventure with Regina.

“I think everyone could use some family time,” TC said giving him a plate. “Yeah?”

He nodded, “Yeah.”

*

Timothy Baker at the age of sixty had had more chances than many to get his life together. As his sister liked to say, he’d started off and ended strong with Camden and Halle’s mother.

_Please don’t let it take another fourteen children for you to get it right._

He’d laughed at that, but had the vasectomy done either way. Sixteen children was honestly more than enough and Victoria hadn’t seemed interested in having children either way. Her children from her late husband, all grown-up and taking care of themselves, she wanted to live the rest of her life taking care of herself, hence why he’d had to make so much go right in the last few years.  He was old enough to start thinking about himself instead of trying to clean up and protect his children who were more than old enough, with kids of various ages, to take care of themselves.

“Dad!”

He looked up and stood to see Halle coming towards the table he occupied.  She looked more and more like her mother every day it seemed. Halle’s hair was longer, and maybe she had a bit more curve to work with, but the Martin features were strong in her all the way down to the tone of her skin.

“Hey baby girl,” he greeted, pulling her in for a tight hug and a kiss to the cheek. “About time you made some time for just your old man without being coerced.”

She laughed, “You’re paying for breakfast: coerced enough.”

He shook his head, “Damn Martin.”

She beamed at him and slid into the booth across from him. The waiter came to give them menus, take their drink orders, and smile before Halle set her menu aside and leaned forward.

“Alright Dad, what is it?”

“What?” She gave him a look that her mother gave him many a time while they dated, “Don’t give me that look.”

“Not that you don’t invite me out for breakfast at regular intervals when I’m in town, but it’s usually at the house which makes this suspicious… especially since pretty much everyone has come back. What’s this about? Is this about your new girlfriend?”

“Fiancé.”

Halle blinked and tilted her head, “Come again?”

“Fiancé,” he repeated. “We’re engaged now.”

His stomach turned, just like when he’d told Camden, who had already met Victoria. He was telling Halle before Brooklyn because if he didn’t his youngest daughter would have raised hell if she heard it from anyone else.

“You?” She said. “You’re getting married?”

He glowered at her, “Why you got to treat your old man like that?”

“Because my old man told me, at the tender age of five, that marriage wasn’t something he planned to do… _ever._ ”

He winced, “Did he really?”

“He really did,” she said. “So she must be really special…”

He nodded, “Missed the last two trains so…wizening up and booking the trip in advance.”

Halle nodded, “I’m happy for you, Dad… are you going to hide her from me till the wedding or…?”

He laughed, “When you both have some free time, we’ll get together…. Everyone else has already met her.”

“Her?”

“Victoria.”

She nodded, and frowned, “ _Cam_ , never-on-this-side-of-the-continent-or-world Admiral Camden, met her before me?”

He winced, “You were… busy.”

“How long have you been dating her? I couldn’t have been that busy.”

“A little under a year.”

She shut her mouth and swallowed…Yeah, busy. Busy had been a nice way of putting it. She nodded and smiled at him as he tried his best not to be awkward about it.

“Right… well I’m not busy now, so I expect to meet this _Victoria_.”

He nodded, “Sure thing. I also have a bit of a surprise for her that I want your opinion on after breakfast.”

She shrugged, “Let’s see what you’ve got old man.”

He grinned and asked her about work, how things were going, therapy, and everything else he couldn’t ask her when they were around most of his other children. With her brothers it was always a matter of what the hell was going on now, but with just them at the table, conversation could go somewhere that wasn’t a disaster.

He paid for breakfast and ushers her into his car to drive out to the side of town where retired people lived, the sort of placed that said “I have mature, stable money.” The house was huge, divided into two sides and obviously custom made.

“Can’t go into married life with the stressors of unmarried life. What do you think?”

She slipped off her shoes and followed him around the house, shaking her head at the private pool in the center of the house and laughed.

“Jeez Dad, why not just call Cribs up right now?”

“Can’t have your brothers and sisters in my business.”

That was a fair statement. If they knew that he’d had the kind of money he had, there was no telling what kind of tomfoolery they would get up to in order to get a little more of it. She had nothing against her siblings, PTSD, hard breaks, terrible role models, etc—they were only human, but there were multiple reasons why she and her sisters didn’t get along.  The surprise was actually the car, hidden beneath a tarp in the garage, she guessed it had to be a custom color because this particular shade of red was hard to duplicate on a larger scale.

“From a human to a Baker huh?”

He grinned at her, “Nice isn’t it?”

It was a nice car, a nice house, the perfect escape from the calamity that his children, her siblings, had become. He would give them the house as it was already paid for and they would be responsible for the utilities and the property taxes, the insurance and the rest.

“Finally cutting them loose huh?”

He nodded solemnly on the drive back to her car, “I had it easy with Cam’ and then I don’t know what happened… even easier with you.”

“Me? Easier than Cam’?”

He nodded, “I had experience and if I gave you a book you’d be content for hours… at least until you finished the book.”

She smiled and nodded, that had been the default method of baby-sitting for her. When her older sisters would be in charge of her as a child, and they didn’t want to be bothered, she went to Dad’s library, pulled a book off the shelf and kept to herself. Almost an unspoken rule that she couldn’t, and wouldn’t, say anything about what had happened in the house if they just left her in peace.

That had ended when Evelyn Martin moved back to Houston and took Halle with her after an incident with Amelia and her boyfriend who had a taste for younger girls. Halle had been taking martial arts that year and had damn near incapacitated the man… and Amelia too.

“Good times.”

“How are you, Halle?” He asked as the car stopped beside hers. “Really.”

Halle licked her lips and shook her head, “Some days… I just want to stay in bed… turn off the phone, watch old movies and Facebook clips… Somedays, I just want to run and keep running so I don’t have to think about it.”

He nodded looking at her as she took a deep breath, “And somedays I laugh before I cry. And thinking of her doesn’t hurt as much.”

She looked at him and smiled a bit, “I’m getting there… if only because I can hear her telling me Carpe Diem.”

“There are fine men and even finer opportunities waiting for you in your badass heels,” he quoted and  she nodded with a chuckle.

“Some of them even have sense.”

“If you need to talk, Halle…I’m still your Dad, grown up, successful, badass or not.” She nodded and he got out of the car to hug her tightly, “I’ll see you soon baby girl. Take care of yourself.”

“I will, Dad,” she said squeezing him back and kissing his cheek. “I love you. And I’d better meet Victoria _before_ the wedding.”

“I promise,” he said watching her climb into her car and drive home.

She waved goodbye as she turned the corner and drove off towards her side of town and she’s out of sight when he realized that he forgot to ask about the guy from his sons’ last report on her at the hospital.

_Damn it._

*

“I’m here on behalf of my client for medical records,” the woman said walking up to the front desk and sliding forward a folder of paperwork.

Sindia felt a shiver down her spine because this lady was bad auras and dark clouds all the way around. She’d felt it like calamity breathing down her neck, but offered her best smile to the older blonde on the other side of the desk.

“Sure, I’ll get these checked for you.”

“Make it quick.”

Jayden’s eyebrows jumped as Sindia turned and strolled pointedly towards her side of the station. She pointedly takes her time pulling up the file in her electronic records. It was a fairly recent case luckily and thanks to her system in the backroom, she knew exactly where it was. She scribbled a note to Jayden, not sure why but passed it to her as she told her she was going to the file room.

Jayden opened the file Sindia passed her and glanced at her.

_Warn Drew. Bad Feelings. Get TC._

“Cool, I’ll hold down the fort.”

“How long is this going to take?” The woman asked, frustrated.

“There are procedures in place mam’ to protect the patient for a reason, you’re free to have a seat.”

A trimmed blonde eyebrow drifted up and Jayden only continued to smile at her before lifting the phone to her ear and dialing TC’s number.

“TC,” he greeted cheerily.

“Yes, Dr. Callahan, we have a Black Aura pro Delta Roger Echo Wilson at the nurse’s station.”

TC stopped and frowned, “This Aura have a name?”

Jayden opened the file and scanned, “Elizabeth Alister, Esquire.”

TC’s eyes widened, “You hold her there until I get eyes on Drew, you understand?”

“Roger, wilco. Cindy en route to locate.”

“Thanks.”

He hung up and turned around, dialing Drew’s number.

“TC?”

“Where are you?” He asked.

“I’m walking towards the nurse’s station for some charts—”

“Turn around, Drew, do not go there.”

Drew frowned, “Okay…where should I go?”

“Head back towards the OR.”

“Okay.”

He frowned, thinking it was strange that TC would call him while they were in the hospital, but he turned back towards the OR where TC was pacing.

“T’? What’s up?”

TC pulled him along towards a supply closet and looked at him, “What’s wrong, TC?”

“Do you know an Elizabeth Alister?”

Drew frowned and nodded, “She’s… my older sister.”

TC licked his lips, this wasn’t good. Sure, it wasn’t his mother, but there was no telling what Elizabeth wanted.

“She’s here,” TC said. “I need you to look at me and tell me how bad this could be.”

Drew shook his head, “It… shouldn’t be bad at all. She may not even remember me… or recognize me… I… haven’t seen her in…well… before Regina adopted me.”

TC licked his lip, “Cindy has bad feelings and I do too. Could you just try to avoid her? At least until—”

His phone rang again, it was Sindia calling him.

“Sin’?”

“You found Drew?”

“Yes, wanna explain the bad feelings?”

“Major bad, like hurricane bad feelings. Don’t like it. I’m heading back to the desk with a copy of the file she wanted and that should get her to go away for a while… apparently she’s impatient.”

TC nodded, “Okay. Just text when she’s gone.”

He looked at Drew, “What charts did you need?”

“TC are you serious?”

“Cindy’s senses are always on point, I’m not chancing it, and furthermore I’m not letting you chance it either.”

He sighed and nodded before rattling off the list of names.

“Got it, just stay away from the nurse’s desk until it’s safe. For me?”

Drew smiled and nodded, “Okay.”

“Thank you.”

TC left then and Drew let out a sigh, a small part of him trying to remember Elizabeth’s face. He remembered that she took after their mom a lot. When TC returned with his charts, there’s a grim look on his face.

“What is it?”

“She’ll be back tomorrow.”

“For what?”

“To talk to you and Scott.”

“Me?”

“You’re in the file as a treating physician. She needs to interview you, ask you questions about it.”

Drew nodded, “So…”

“I don’t like this,” he said shaking his head. “My gut is telling me that this isn’t a good idea.”

Drew pat him on the shoulder, “You can’t protect me from everything T… I’ll be fine.”

TC wanted to believe him, really he did, but he just couldn’t. The way she’d assessed TC, assessed Jayden and Sindia spoke volumes of her personality. Whatever she had to say wouldn’t be good.

*

TC filled his cup and did his best to not pace at the start of next shift. Scott had met with Elizabeth earlier in the day to get his statement, but tonight she would show up expecting to speak with Drew.

Drew was nervous; almost excited about the prospect of seeing her even if she didn’t recognize him. Sindia had begun plying him with berry stuffed mini-pies from the breakroom, courtesy of Halle.

Drew entered the small conference room where she’d been taken and took a seat. His eyes flickered over her face slow and steady, taking in her features. He didn’t really remember what his parents looked like anymore, it had been so long since he’d thought of them, but her blonde had begun to go artfully gray in places, making it looked highlighted with platinum instead of actually gray.

“Hello Andrew,” she greeted. “It’s been a while, has it not?”

Drew swallowed and took a seat, it seemed that Elizabeth recognized him.

“You… recognize me?”

“You look just like Dad.”

His insides flinched at that, all he could smell was whiskey and cigarette smoke for just a moment, his face forced into something hard and uncomfortable.

“I… wouldn’t know.”

“Yes,” she said softly. “I’ve done my research, Lieutenant Andrew Alister. Adopted by Regina Brennan in 1990, elementary school, middle school, high school, went to University of Texas for undergrad, enlisted with the army so they’d pay for your medical school… Now, Dr. Alister.”

He stomach clenched and he understood why TC was so worried about him. She knew all of that, yet she’d chosen now to come see him.

“I don’t really know what to say… since I know next to nothing about you.”

“Of course not,” Elizabeth said. “New family and all.”

He blinked, not sure what to think of her tone as she opened the folder in front of her.

“I’m not really here to talk about the patient as Dr. Clemmens has already told me everything I needed to know and the police were  quite happy to provide their case file, I’m here to talk about Dad. Former General Luke Alister.”

His stomach clenched and swallowed thickly, “I haven’t seen him since I was four.”

Luke Alister had been dishonorably discharged from the service years after Drew was taken in by Regina. Apparently, the scandal had come out after an incident between him and a subordinate and ruined his career and no matter how good of a general he was, the army couldn’t take the blow of a child abuser on top of all the other scandals that they’d been hit with over the years.

“Military court too scared to recognize it as you being a klutz because someone could call it abuse.”

Drew’s jaw clenched and his lips curved into that smile again, just the uplifting of the edges of his mouth, stepping back just before he rattled apart. Pamela Alister and Lily are just fine, living somewhere else. Pamela and Luke had gotten back together a few years ago and went in for therapy regularly.

“But none of that is why I’m here.”

He waited for her to continue. “Dad is in trouble and if you have even a stitch of remorse for what you’ve done to this family, you’ll help me get him out of it.”

_You ruined my life just like your father!_

_Just like your mother--_

“They’re charging him with assault, battery and rape of one of the patients that was here recently. One that you helped attend. He needs a character witness showing that the therapy is working and that there’s no way that he did it.”

“They… abandoned me, how—”

“No one _abandoned_ you, Andrew. That implies purpose. Dad was deployed early, Mom didn’t know and got out of a bad situation. Either way, you’re the reason they split, but they didn’t abandon you.”

Drew blinked, the smile growing a little wider as she carried on, “People make mistakes, they didn’t talk for years and it wasn’t until recently either of them realized that neither of them had you.”

_I never wanted you! Go with your fucking father!_

_Stay with that whore you call a mother. You’re learning from her pretty fucking well._

“They abandoned me,” he said softly and watched her expression changed, like a switch. “Abused me…”

He sees Pamela’s face, younger than she was now, he was sure, with scotch lines etched in her face and cigarette smoke clinging to her hair after a hard day. Angry, rage worthy violence burning in her eyes

_Useless piece of—_

“I just told you no one abandoned you can’t you get that through you thick head? If anything, you abandoned your family. I thought by now you were going to get some sort of therapy for whatever your brand of special is.”

_Doesn’t fucking listen—_

“They’re just people who made mistakes and let you trip instead of rushing you to the hospital every time you fell. If they’re ready to forgive your mistakes, you should be ready to forgive theirs too and actually be a useful part of the family for once in your life.”

He’s scrambling through his memories, reaching for Regina’s words about family but all he can hear is whisky, scotch, and pain.

_Worthless, brainless, just like your fucking father—_

“That means sacrifice and looking past the ugly, by choice or by force,” she said. “I don’t want to do this the hard way, Andrew. Trust me, I could make your life hard and everything you’ve got right now can turn into a very ugly reality.”

_I could give a shit what you become. You might not even be my son._

“You want to keep playing pretend with Regina and her mashed-up family, want to keep your new life? Come when I call or you’ll regret it.”

She pulled out her phone and typed a few numbers, his hip buzzed with a new text message as she stood.

“I’ve already wasted enough time. We’ll be in touch… “

She walked towards the door, leaving him sitting there with that smile still on his face. He was always like that, looks like even with all the years, he hadn’t grown out of his autism or whatever the hell he had. Pamela hadn’t ever taken the time to get him checked as it would have been a waste of time and no one wanted to believe their kid had issues. It had been a major source of tension in the family ever since he was a child, but Elizabeth always believed that there was something else about Drew. Not just autism, but some innate need to cause trouble that had really driven their parents apart. After all, everything had been fine before he was born.

“Oh, and Andrew,” she said looking back at him. “Think really hard about what could happen to Captain Lincoln if you don’t comply… I know you two are close.”

She closed the door behind her and marched past the nurse standing outside and past the nurse’s desk. The nurse goes to the nurse’s desk as Sindia watched Elizabeth strut out of the hospital before leaving the station to go to the room where they’d met.

Drew’s aura always had a bit of a dark tinge that grew brighter or darker sometimes, but even without seeing him directly she could feel the darkness around him. She texted TC and growled realizing that he just stepped into surgery and wouldn’t be checking his phone for a few hours. She texted Halle who replied that she was on her way to the conference room. Sindia managed to loiter while looking extremely engaged in reading a set of charts. The hospital was more or less used to her oddities, so they said nothing. When Halle arrived, she brought TC’s thermos full of something warm and chocolatey, a blanket and thermals for Drew before heading in.

Halle shut the blinds of the conference room and set the thermos in front of Drew before wheeling the chair back and turning it. The smile was still plastered on his face even as wet streams glistened over his cheeks. As awkward as the position was, she managed to hug him, stroke his hair and speak in low, soothing tones to him, coaxing him out of wherever he’d gone. He surfaced slowly.

“You with me Drew?” He nodded, silent, against her, breathing slow and deep, “TC’s trying to get out of surgery soon.”

He shook his head, “I’m fine.”

Halle hated that phrase, mostly because people who weren’t fine liked to use it in abundance.

“Fine or not, drink this and put this on,” she said, giving him the thermos and the thermal shirt. “You can take it off later if you get too warm.”

How’d she known he was cold? He must be shaking… He doesn’t hesitate, but it feels like his body is moving slower than usual as he tugs his scrub top off and puts on the thermal layer then the scrub top and reaches for the thermos. Halle watched him drink the whole cup before letting him get up and try to leave the room.

“Cindy keep him from doing anything too strenuous, okay?”

She nodded, “Cold and flu duty for you, Mister.”

His lips twitch a bit, but at least that dazed, out of body smile is gone now. Drew’s first patient is a little girl who’s running an exceptionally high fever and though he’s obviously still surfacing, her little voice jolts him to attention, into action and seems to carry him through the rest of the shift.

TC attempted to get him to come to the condo, but settled for putting his bike in Drew’s truck bed and driving him back to his apartment to make sure he was okay.

“A little magic goes a long way,” he said with a smile. “I also got to drank out of your very coveted thermos.”

TC laughed, straddling his bike, “if you wanted to kiss me that badly, you could have just asked.”

Drew chuckled a bit, some of the cold easing out of his veins.

“Love you, Drew,” TC said meeting his eyes. “I mean it.”

Drew smiled, a real one, and maybe felt just a little bit of warmth somewhere in him, “Love you too, T. Get home and got to sleep.”

“Dream of indirect kisses?”

Drew managed to chuckle and roll his eyes before walking down the corridor toward his apartment. It was just after seven so Rick wasn’t awake quite yet, but he would be soon. The man in question was asleep, in his room, probably knocked out from the pain medication.

Good, at least he was taking them again. Drew crawled into bed in the thermal shirt Halle had given him, a pair of old sweatpants, beneath the mountain of blankets on his bed. A pillow under his head and another crushed against his chest, he closed his eyes and prayed that he would just be too tired to dream.

He wasn’t, but rather than the nightmares, it was Regina’s lullaby for when Drew would wake up in the middle of the night screaming, scaring everyone in the house awake. They’d spent a lot of nights in a den of pillows in the living room because of him…

A lot of warm, happy nights that felt like home.

*

“I’m looking for Andrew Alister.”

Sindia looked up at the older couple and felt her stomach lurch. Jayden looked at them and looked at Sindia’s face.

“Are you a patient?”

“No, I’m his mother.”

Jayden’s eyes widened and she looked at Sindia, “Dr. Alister isn’t on shift today. You’re welcome to try again some other time.”

“When will he be back on shift?”

“I’m not at liberty to disclose the schedules of our doctors to those that aren’t patients.”

The man’s eyes narrowed and Sindia looked at him with a defiance that didn’t surprise Jayden. She looked a little flushed and angry.

“Cindy,” Jordan called coming to the desk. “I need your timesheet from last week if you’ve got it.”

“Are you her supervisor?” The man asked, earning Jordan’s attention.

“Dr. Alexander, I run the night shift, can I help you?”

“I’m Luke Alister, I understand that my son is working here.”

Jordan shook his hand and frowned, “Drew? He’s never said anything about his father.”

“We’re a bit estranged,” the woman said offering her hand. “I’m Pamela Alister, his mother.”

Jordan’s eyebrows went up as she shook her hand.

“You look rather surprised.”

“I was under the impression that Drew didn’t know his real parents.”

“It’s been a while, but he should know us. We just moved back to San Antonio and were hoping to reconnect with him.”

Jordan nodded, “Well, he isn’t on shift today, but he should be back tomorrow evening.”

“Wonderful, we’ll see him then.”

Sindia closed her binder and walked away, telling Jayden she was going to the records room. It’s the superior gleam in Luke and Pamela’s eyes that pissed her off more than Jordan blatantly disregarding protocol.  She called TC on the way down the hall.

“What is this? Everyone shows up at the worst possible time?”

“Bad,” she said. “Very bad, creepy, demon aura, I tell you. And damn Jordan for practically feeding him to the fucking wolves.”

TC winced, “Cindy—”

“No, we have protocol for a damn reason and as she wants everyone to toe the line she should too, or at least ask Drew if he wanted his schedule disclosed for god’s sake has she no sense of—“She stopped herself and let out a breath, “I don’t like it.”

“Neither do I.”

*

Drew ran a hand through his hair, walking to his apartment door. It had been a rough shift, full of running around and panic. He’d been in surgery with TC as a carefully crafted excuse to keep Pamela and Luke away from him until a better plan could be formed. Unfortunately, they’d moved back to San Antonio and with Elizabeth breathing down his neck as well, it wasn’t the least stressful situation to be in.

He took a deep breath, closed his eyes and rested his head on the door for just a moment to cast his mood somewhere else, to focus on Rick before he opened the door.

“Rick? Babe?”

“Son of a bitch!”

He hears the clatter of Rick’s body, the crutches, and something else hit the ground before rushing to the living room. The lamp that used to sit in the corner lay on the floor beside Rick who glared down at the space where his leg used to be and hissed in pain.

“Rick, you alright?”

“I’m fine,” he grit out as Drew came around the couch to kneel near his left leg. “Don’t!”

But he cried out when Drew pressed two fingers to his ankle, “Fuck!”

“Sprained,” he Drew said calmly. “Maybe not too badly. Let me get you on the couch.”

“I can do it—”

“Not a request,” he said, reaching for Rick and wrapping and arm around his waist, before standing to swing him on to the couch.

Drew picked up the lamp and his crutches seeing the replacement light bulb on the ground not too far away before going to the cabinet where he kept his first aid kit and returning to Rick with a large box.

“What happened?” Drew asked, reaching for support tape and a brace.

“I… I just wanted to read a book on the couch and the light went out.”

Drew kept his eyes on Rick’s ankle and didn’t miss the way he hissed when his shoulder brushed the other limb. Rick flinched when he reached for the edge of his jeans and his hand came out to stop him.

“Let me do my job, Rick.”

His jaw tensed but he relented and let Drew roll up his pant leg and remove the bandage there. The end had swollen incredibly and judging from the coloring of the skin and the sensitivity, Drew called it a hematoma and opened another layer of his first aid kit.

“You got a bone saw in there too?” Rick asked.

Drew snorted, “No, but there are really big needles.”

Rick froze as Drew pulled one out for him to see and he watched a bit of the color vanish from his face before he yelped at the prick of the other needle Drew inserted into the swelling.

“You…”

“Works every time,” Drew said with a smile, replacing the larger needle in the kit and watching the blood and fluid drain into the vacuum of the bag at the end of the line.

“It should feel better soon,” Drew said soothingly.

“Not better enough,” Rick said with a shake of his head.

Drew licked his lip and reached for Rick’s hand, but he moved it and Drew knew that it wasn’t going to get any better.

“I used to be the man who could practically build a house from the ground up,” Rick said, his voice hollow and angry. “I can’t even change a light bulb now…”

“Rick—”

“Have you any idea how that makes me feel?”

 _Useless, aimless, purposeless,… lost…_ Drew may not have lost a limb, but he knew what it was to have to relearn to live your life, to take one step forward only to fall three feet back every time. He knew what it was to run into a wall and see no way around it or over it.

“I can empathize,” he said softly. “I know how hard it is to see it as just an adjustment, but—”

“Adjustment?” Rick said, his eyes furious and looking at Drew. “Adjust to what? Knowing that I can’t do anything that I’ve been planning to do? With me life? With you? Machu Picchu, building a house, leading my platoon into battle, _hiking, spelunking, --fucking hell,_ sex _…what?_ Adjust to what? I can’t even change a goddamn light bulb!”

Drew swallowed, dropping his gaze to breath past the panic. His voice was rising, getting angrier, getting louder. It was different in basic training. The Sergeant hadn’t ever yelled at him directly. He yelled to be heard over the noise of adrenaline and nerves, he yelled with a purpose to intimidate and reach people but not scare or hurt.

“I… I don’t… I can’t do this anymore, Drew.”

Drew swallowed, “Do what?”

_Don’t say it… please don’t say it._

“Thank you for everything you’ve done for me, but you can’t make this better, Drew…. No matter what you do. There is nothing… you can do.”

Drew blinked, clenching his jaw against the words, the begging, the pleading. He wouldn’t, couldn’t do that… Not even for Rick. Rick let’s out a dark sigh and shakes his head, plowing through the mess in his head.

 “I’m not the man you fell in love with… I’m not even a man I like right now and I can’t… I won’t.”

 _Don’t say it,_ Drew thinks closing his eyes as his eyes burn and he feels the warmth leaving him.

“I’m moving out,” he said finally.

Drew swallowed and looked at him, meeting his eyes. Rick’s parents owned a house in Louisiana, Drew knew that was probably where he would go. His sister lived there too from what he remembered. Drew wasn’t even sure how Rick was going to get there, what he would do when he got there. How long?

 _Forever,_ a part of him told him with a cold resignation… because it was all just temporary. Everyone got tired of him eventually. He was too fucked up. Too stupid, too fragile… too…too…

_Weak._

“My sister is coming to pick me up tomorrow morning.”

Drew swallowed again. He’d been planning this… for how long? How long had Rick been enduring him? Planning to leave…

 Planning to leave him…

No matter how badly he wants to curl up at his feet and beg for anything, for something, he keeps those words out of his mouth because Rick is right. There is nothing he can do, hadn’t he learned that by now? If someone wanted to leave him, there was nothing he could do to make them stay. So he takes a breath as steady as he can and doesn’t look at Rick who won’t look at him either.

“Okay,” Drew said, in a voice so small that he wasn’t sure he said it at all. “I… I’ll uhm… put together a care kit for you…”

Rick looked at him almost floored, confused as Drew gave him a smile, stood up, shoved his hands in the pockets of his jeans and looked at him. His eyes grew vacant and his cheeks grew pale but Drew’s voice didn’t change.

“Take care of yourself,” Drew said, his voice steady and pleading. It was a deceptive placidness because Rick could feel the tremors that came after the sound was already gone somewhere around where his leg used to be.

“Take your meds…change your bandages… adjust.”

Rick blinked as Drew turned to walk toward the bedroom. Rick wasn’t sure what the tightness in his chest, the confusion in his head, what any of it was or what it meant… Why Drew smiled at him like that…? Why he got so pale so quickly, how the other could sound so unaffected at the mention of Rick moving out.

Drew walked directly to the bathroom, emptied the second first aid kit he kept in the bathroom and refilled it with gauze, compression bandages, instructions, medical tape, and anything else that Rick would need. His hands shook but he placed everything in the box and carried it back into the kitchen to pull Rick’s medications out of the cabinet, the new bottles and telling him that he’d gotten them refilled.

His alarm went off somewhere in between closing the kit and packing food. It was time to head out if he meant to get to the hospital on time and he needed to if he meant to outrun the tremors for just a little while longer.

“I love you,” he said, his voice wavering a bit and Rick watched him leave the apartment, more confused than when Drew started smiling at him.

When he arrived at the hospital, changed, got ready for shift, everyone had something to say about his apparent good mood and the fact that at least half the night shift had gotten in early to cover the seemingly last minute catastrophe. He didn’t hear anything they said, didn’t hear anything for the next few hours, even when Jordan started in on some procedure that he should have been able to do by now, but had never had a chance to learn. He only smiled at her, keeping his eyes on her face, nodding when appropriate, but he didn’t hear a thing she’d said, only that she was angry and would be watching him to be sure that he wasn’t “becoming a problem.”

“Hey,” Krista said. “I know Jordan was pretty harsh, but you know everyone has bad nights.”

He nodded and excused himself to go be watched by Jordan while examining another patient. He didn’t feel anything, hear anything between people’s ailments and the rustling of paperwork. He left the hospital to climb into his truck at the back of the parking lot. The door closed and it was all quiet.

 _Love me,_ the kid inside him is sobbing, curled up in a corner and rocking. _Love me._

Drew’s hand twitches, holding the phone in his hand like a lifeline. He could call, just to hear his voice… just to know… but then what? He’d still leave him…

Like everyone did…

The adolescent still awkward in his own body, flinching, shutting his mouth against the pain, letting the jock have whatever he wanted if it just meant being loved… the sobbing afterwards, the way he nearly bled out in the locker room. Gwaine and TC had kicked the guy’s ass seven ways to Monday and had held him, bitter angry tears in his eyes, telling him that they loved him, that he deserved the world.

That they loved him.

The college student so drunk he wakes up naked, bruised, in the middle of a forest with no recollection of how he got there, where his truck went, why he should go back, dragging himself through the mud.

The man hiding the truth, cradling the broken pieces and whispering that it would be okay, that it wasn’t so bad. Clinging to half-friends who didn’t know, steadied by TC and Gwaine and barely stable at all.

The man peeking into the light, taking Rick’s hand tentative steps towards him and truth and everything. The man who’d kissed him in front of everyone he’d been hiding from—a man he didn’t even recognize now, sobbing in his truck, tears streaming, and silent shuddering breaths.

Never louder than this, never louder than silence. To be heard was to be a target.

_What the fuck are you crying for? I’ll give you something to cry about!_

Cold, he thinks, revving the engine and turning the heater up.  _Cold._

When his phone beeps almost an hour later, he turns off the engine and climbs out, hurrying into the hospital to make himself look more presentable before facing the second half of the shift and dodged TC on the way out.

He doesn’t know why, but when he pulls up at the apartment, he can feel something in him telling him that it’ll be okay… just like he did when he was a child.

_It’s okay, Andrew._

_I’ll just try harder next time…_ in the hopes that they’ll come.

He stalked up the stairs and managed to get the door open. When the world flickers in his eyes and he walked in to the old house. Cold, bitter, house that smelled like rage splashed with a little whisky and scotch. He knows that he has carpet, but the floorboards creak as he walked forward, stumbling in and closed the door behind him and stalking forward towards his bedroom. The cupboard that was meant for extra storage. He closed the door behind him, wrapping himself in the old blankets that made up his bed, and curled in tight against the wall between the bed he owned now and the wall he slept against then.

It’s quiet… so quiet.

And Drew has no idea how long he sits there waiting to hear someone else nearby.

*

Kimberly is all smiles and warm greetings at least until she sees his leg.

“This… is something you tell someone _before_ they see you, Ricky.”

He scrunched his nose at the nickname, but accepts the hug.

“Am I going to get to meet this boyfriend now?”

Rick swallowed, “Let’s get going. Wanna get there before Mom gets back.”

Kimberly frowned. After years of hearing about this amazing Drew Alister, she wanted to meet him, but given the way Rick shut down at the mention of him… she guessed that just wouldn’t be happening.

“It’ll be like old times… minus the really old music.”

Rick chuckled, hauling his bag over his shoulder and getting himself up and on to the crutches. She glowered at him, “You are going to give Mom a heart attack.”

Rick snorted, “The leg or the boyfriend?”

She looked at him closing the door behind him and locking it, “You’re… going to tell them?”

“I figured I may as well get it all over with…”

Kimberly nodded slowly, handing him his keys back before leading him towards her car. It’s new, shiny, perfect for her work as a consultant. He climbed in, leaning the crutches against the door and took a deep breath as she put his bag in the back seat and got in on the driver’s side.

“No matter what happens, I love you, kay?” Kimberly said with a grin. “You’re my baby brother, you know?”

Rick nodded, “Thanks Kim. Let’s get this show on the road.”

When she turns on the Spice Girls, he rethinks his decision to call her rather than hoping a greyhound.

“If you wanna be my lover—”

Rick promptly turns towards the window and tries his best not to smile because yes… it is just like old times. He winced thinking of Drew’s face when he told him about Kimberly and the way she used to torture him with the Spice Girls, the way she’d teased him mercilessly about his crush on Antonio Banderas and Leonardo DiCaprio. The way he’d laughed in their secret hideout on base. Where they’d go to be together, nothing sexual, just to talk and be honest without Drew being so on edge about being around everyone and posing as straight.

That was a real smile, yet there had been a darkness there too…

Just like before. A fond hopefulness, a dark resignation and Rick couldn’t figure it out. Was Drew always planning, counting down the days until they weren’t together?

For what?

Why?

Kimberly glanced over to see the pensive and troubled look on his face before breathing. Whatever happened between him and Drew had been serious. Were they broken up? Was Drew kicking him out? She didn’t know, but she sure as hell wasn’t going to go too much longer without knowing. She hadn’t seen Rick look like that since his high school crush went to prom with some girl because he was just too ashamed to go alone or with Rick, posing as a friend.

*

He drives to the hospital, dodges people that may have had something to say and finds himself changed for his shift that’s almost eight hours away and crawling onto the couch in TC’s office. He isn’t even sure how he drove without crashing into something he was shaking so badly. He locked the door and pulled the pillow against him, willing himself to doze off.  The office is empty, but it isn’t an empty home.

 _Cold._ It’s cold.

He pulled the heated blanket TC kept in his office out of the drawer, plugs it in and wraps himself in it.

 _Cold,_ he thinks as he drifts into sleep. The blanket is as high as it goes and he’s still shivering beneath his thermals, beneath his scrubs and the blanket. A cold deeper than skin, but coming from inside.

He dreams of whiskey bottles and scotch glasses, cigarette smoke and early morning sprinklers. He dreams of Elizabeth looking at him from the table as he’s curled up in the corner as a child. He dreams of Rick leaving him and wakes up alone, cold, and exhausted.

The past is screaming in his ears still. It isn’t working. He needs something else, something to quiet it all, so he goes to the gym and sets up the punching bag. It’s easy, bone-deep, automatic memory. He doesn’t have to think, he doesn’t have to fear, because his body knows what to do. It’s like basic training and the promise of the army: just one of the many, a place to belong and find bonds as strong as family, maybe stronger and all he had to do was toe the line.

Through the warm up, through the work-out, the past fades out and there’s just the burning now in his veins... How hard to hit, the angle of the punch, His muscles burn, sweat falls and he hears nothing.

Not the door, not the footsteps, he doesn’t see anything but the punching bag, and his fists, his leg flying out to land a solid kick to the top and middle side.

“Drew.”

He stopped, swallowing thickly before turning to see TC standing there in his scrubs. He blinked at him blearily, confused, tired, the ache settling in now.

“T?”

TC walked towards him, turns him away from the punching bag and steers him, bodily to take a seat on a bench. TC tugs him to lean against him, and puts an arm around his shoulder.

“No sleep?”

He shook his head.

“You slept here?”

He nodded.

“Rick?”

He nodded again and TC blew out a breath.

“Cold,” Drew said so soft and small that it makes TC’s gut twist.

“Come on,” he said. “Let’s get you warmed up.”

He guides him out of the weight room and into the locker room for a hot shower. Drew’s body moves, but it’s obvious that he isn’t mentally there. They make a stop at the break room for hot drinks, pastries, and other breakfast food before going back to TC’s office. He sets the spread out on the low table and wraps Drew up in the electric blanket, forcing him to lay his head in his lap and curl up against him.

“Breathe, Drew.” He said. “You don’t have to talk, I just want you to breathe right now.”

Drew nodded, taking deep breaths letting TC run a hand across his scalp. His buzz cut soft and dragging against his hand as Drew’s breathing slowed, his body relaxed.  TC called Gwaine and Drew just listened to them talk for a while. Gwaine and TC’s voice twining together and loosening Drew’s tense muscles, the knots in his mind, the screaming a settling it all to a painful ache in his chest. They’re talking about Christmas tree hunting, how they’d try to swindle David out of a Christmas tree every year since they could talk. The comradery, the way Drew had been put in charge of picking the Christmas tree because he was the only one Thad wouldn’t argue with about the tree and the twins always wanted one that was too big for the living room.

Drew knows the basil David gave him on that first meeting was still growing in the backyard.

_Rick’s gone…_

_Rick’s gone._

“I’m—”

“ _He’s gone,_ ” Drew whispered so soft that TC almost missed it. “ _He left…_ ”

Gwaine stops talking, his eyes drifting down to where Drew lay, still, weeping on TC’s thigh.

“He’s… gone.”


	13. Release The Doves. Surrender, Love.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> alteringviews says that this one is less angst cake...
> 
> Rick, family, Drew, and PTSD...

“My children have returned home at last!” Angela squealed coming in through the front door.

Rick swallowed thickly, he thought she wouldn’t be home, that he’d have a little more time…but there she is. Angela Lincoln in the flesh sporting her usual baking gear and smiling so brightly it hurts. His Dad, William, isn’t there yet, he’s sure, but it was probably only a matter of time. The guilt twisted in his stomach for not coming home for Christmas and instead slumming it on base…

Kimberly gets out to hug her tight while Rick manages to get himself out of the car.

“Mom, take a deep breath, maybe sit down?”

“Don’t be silly, my baby’s come home and I—”

The words die in her throat seeing Rick crutch around the side of the car. Her eyes glaze over, tears spill and Rick winced wanting to run, to hide, to do anything but have her see him like this.

“Rick…”she breathed watching him crutch forward.

“Mom… I…”

He’s cut off with her wrapping her arms around him, squeezing him tight.

“Why didn’t you call, sweetheart? How long? How? I…”

Rick adjusted the crutch to get an arm around her as best as he could. A sprained ankle, down one leg, and the general size of him didn’t make the best combination for hugging, but it was the best he could do.

His father’s car pulled into the driveway and Rick knew that now was as good as time as any. William Lincoln looked at Rick, the crutches, and his bag on his shoulder.

“Couldn’t keep you down could they, son?”

He shook his head, “Nope… They tried hard though.”

William nodded and hugged him tight, forcing Rick to let his crutches go.

“Welcome home,” he said squeezing him tight.

Rick swallowed the broken sound before whispering a thanks and enjoying the easy comfort of his Dad’s presence. They get him in the house easy enough, get settled in the living room and Rick managed to take a gulp of air before explaining what happened during the bus crash, the doctors who tried to save his leg, how it ended.

“That was… last July.”

Angela swallowed.

“I… hadn’t quite… wrapped my head around it… I didn’t know how to… explain it… couldn’t… even say it until recently.”

“Where have you been staying all this time? On base?”

“With my boyfriend,” he said.

Angela’s eyes widened perceptibly while William only nodded.

“The medic?”

“Doctor… now.”

Angela looked at William, “You knew?”

“I had a feeling,” William said with a shrug.  “The way he talked about his medic sometimes was just a confirmation.”

Angela swallowed, biting her lip and looking at Rick who seemed to be about to curl into himself, when she noticed that Kimberly didn’t look phased.

“You knew,” she said.

“Since we were in high school. You really thought Zorro and The Man in the Iron Mask were just my favorite movies?”

She looked between them, not really sure what to say when William picked up the conversation.

“Do we get to meet this medic of yours?” He asked.

Rick swallowed, “No… I don’t think so.”

“Why not?” Angela asked.

Rick gave her a look and let his eyes drift away and the room is filled with the kind of indignation that only family could have before Angela gets up to make lunch and Kim followed.

“You’ll be staying here as long as it’s necessary to get her not to fuss.”

Rick snorted, he hadn’t expected anything different, “Can’t say I’ll be up to being fussed over… Drew… I wouldn’t let him fuss over me.”

“Yeah, that’s your boyfriend. You probably don’t see your mother coddling you as even remotely emasculating.”

He winced and looked at his Dad, “Here I thought you would take it the hardest.”

William shook his head, “You’re my son, who you love, how you love, are all a part of that… You’ve made me proud, Ric, made us proud and there’s nothing you could do to change that… except maybe rape someone… definitely wouldn’t be proud of that.”

Rick shook his head, “I’m not sure if that was supposed to be funny, but thanks Dad… I think… I needed to hear it.”

“Your mother’s had her heart set on grandchildren for the longest though, she’ll come around.”

Rick hoped so.

It’s another few weeks before he hears Drew’s name again, but it isn’t from anyone in his childhood home, or over the phone, but on the television.

“ _In more uplifting news, heroic Dr. Andrew Alister, Lieutenant in the United States Army and ER Resident of the San Antonio Memorial Hospital, stopped an armed gunmen at an army promotion ceremony and treated the colonel who was shot. Sources say he’s in critical, but stable condition…”_

William is watching Rick’s face as he watched the footage of Drew tackling the gunmen, choking the man out, and wrestling the gun from him. When others swarm to further subdue the guy, Drew moved, turning back towards the Colonel while Krista kneeled at the man’s side and tried to staunch the bleeding.

“ _Get me a first aid kit and call 911! Colonel Walker, I’m Lieutenant Andrew Alister, talk to me, sir. ”_

“That your man?” William asked.

Rick swallowed as the footage froze on Drew’s face and the announcer began to talk again about the rest of the night and the fact that Drew had also cared for him after his amputation. He looked exhausted, more than just sleepless nights, but wakeless days too. There’s a frown to his face and he looks pale beneath the flush of adrenaline. His mouth open, giving orders.

“I… don’t know…” The picture they fade to is of him and Drew. A private photo that Rick had taken on his phone of them. Drew pressed his lips to his cheek and Rick had grinned into the camera.

His stomach twisted—how did they get this photo? More importantly… Drew…

William looked at Rick and nodded, “Well better figure it out before half the United States decides they want a piece of him.”

Rick laughed, it’s almost hollow and just short of bitter, but it’s telling. Whatever happened between him and Drew had been complicated without a doubt.

*

She dragged the dot back a few frames and stopped it to read the words at the bottom of the scream and to see the man’s face.

 _Andrew Alister,_ she thought. His jawline, the hair, his eyes…

“What’s wrong babe?” Aedan asked from her seat.

“My brother,” she said and Aedan frowned looking at her hastily packing her bag across the room.

She wasn’t even putting an even number of anything in the bag, grabbing for what looked like clothing out of the pile she was folding. Some of it was Aedan’s underwear, her jeans which Lily couldn’t fit even if her life depended on it.

“How do you know that’s him?”

“He looks just like Luke. That’s my brother.”

“Are you going to drive? You just got home.”

“I don’t care I—”

Aedan placed a hand on hers, stopping her frantic packing and making her look at her.

“I know how much this means to you,” she said, “but you’re in no shape to drive. So either sleep first or let me come with you.”

Her eyes widened as Aedan smile at her, “Aed’…”

“No buts, but yours making a choice.”

She nodded, “Come with me?”

“Of course,” she said and kissed her check, “Let me pack and call in, then we’ll be off. Why don’t you pack some food for the trip?”

She nodded and turned towards the kitchen, hearing Aedan unpack the clothes she’d been shoving into a bag. She opened the refrigerator, her hands shaking at the prospect of seeing him again. God, what would he think of her now? Did he remember her? It was so long ago, she’d begun to wonder if she’d actually had a brother. She looked at the screen and shook her head. There was no such things as coincidences.

Andrew Alister….

Her brother was there in San Antonio again? Still? Had he ever left?

She grinned. A doctor, huh? In the army?

How cool.

*

Drew can’t remember the last time he’d slept but it wasn’t this week and he was feeling it. He’d told TC that he’d be fine, but it hadn’t been true, playing the game and pretending to leave the hospital before driving right back and trying to sleep in a random supply closet instead of going to his empty apartment. If he was there, he’d only make himself sick. He hadn’t gone shopping for groceries because every time he did, he’d turn down the cereal aisle and start shaking at the sight of that tiger on the blue box.

He’d eaten every frosted flake in his apartment within a few weeks of Rick leaving and had felt like he’d throw most of it up by the end of the week. He was sure it wasn’t just grief and the fact that Rick loved Frosted Flakes that had made it nearly impossible to keep anything down for a while. Elizabeth left three messages on his phone the past few weeks telling him to meet with their parents… and then the shooting happened and the picture showed up on the news. He’d just managed to get half a sandwich and some soup down when the text came and the picture appeared on the screen in the lobby of the hospital.

_It will only get worse._

He’d run to the bathroom to empty his stomach, his gut a churning mess of nerves as he calls Rick’s phone only to get the voicemail, a shaking promise that Drew hadn’t told the news anything, hadn’t given them the picture, hadn’t meant to get him dragged into any of this.

“I’m sorry,” he said watery and dazed, clutching his stomach. “I’m so sorry. I’ll fix it, I promise. Please take care of yourself. Be safe.”

His phone kept ringing after the news report came out, his cellphone, the hospital phones… Regina’s phone rang off the hook as well. Reporters were probably camped out in front of his apartment. His email box was flooded with emails, Facebook notifications about people trying to get in touch with him, hitting on him, wanting to convert him. Emails from random people shaming him, mean ugly things that grated on his already fragile nerves.

Today, TC is standing outside the closet holding a cup of coffee, the good kind, a plate of food and a stern scowl on his face. Drew doesn’t even have the mind to look ashamed that he’s been caught and that’s how TC knows that it’s worse than he thought and maybe Drew was better at putting up a brave front than he’d thought.

“You’re coming home with me tonight,” TC said. “If I have to drag you and put you in the truck myself, understand?”

Drew nodded pitifully, “And the rest of the week. You’re not failing at sleeping here another night, understand?”

He nodded slowly and takes the plate, eating it under TC’s watchful eye before drinking the whole cup in one go.

“Feeling a little more human?”

He nodded slowly.

“Good. Come on.”

Drew followed him down the hall towards the break room to see a few other doctor’s in the break room and let’s TC place another cup of coffee in his hand while filling up his own thermos. They file out before TC speaks.

“Mom’s going to come stay with us at the condo,” TC told him. “It’s probably the safest place that isn’t being stalked by crazy reporters right now.”

“Are they threatening her?”

“No, but she’s threatening them.”

Drew snorted, that was the last thing anyone needed: Social Worker Maims Reporters.

“Gwaine said he’ll try and pull some strings to figure out how the hell they got all of that information on you.”

“Elizabeth,” he said softly, taking another sip. “She gave it to them.”

“Fucking hell,” he cursed. “She called you?”

He nodded, “She… works for the military sort of… some sort of lawyer or something.”

“Fucking hell, just what we need.”

“I’m sorry.”

TC turned, placing a hand on his shoulder and gentling his voice, “You did nothing wrong Drew, don’t apologize. She’s the one being a complete—“

The door opened to see Jordan with a binder against her side.

“Hey Hero,” she greeted. “Feel like we should get you a cape.”

“Don’t,” Drew said softly.

“I’m sure your parents are proud. Have you gotten a chance to speak with them yet?”

“No.”

“That’s strange. Would have thought you’d want to see them.”

Drew’s stomach lurched and TC set his thermos down, forcing Drew put his head between his knees and breathe around the nausea.

“Calm down for me, Drew. Just breathe.”

The door opened before Jordan could ask what was going on with Sindia who gave a brief glare at Jordan before approaching TC and leaning to whisper in his ear.

TC groaned, “Why…?”

Drew gulped down air and sat back up slowly.

“What?”

TC licked his lips and looked at Sindia, “Cindy?”

“She wasn’t calamity incarnate, just nervous as hell. There was a woman with her too. They’re in the ER foyer. I don’t know if their reporters or not.”

“I don’t… want to talk to any reporters,” Drew said swallowing thickly, a hand resting over his stomach. “I just…”

“Her name was Lily Alister.”

His eyes widened and TC let out a breath, “Your younger sister?”

Drew nodded, “TC, I…”

“It’s okay, you want to meet her? I’ll come with.”

Drew nodded, “I… just give me a minute.”

Sindia nodded and left heading back out while TC got him a can of ginger ale and forced a bag of chips into his hand.

“Salt and vinegar?” Drew asked. “Since when did we get these?”

“Since whoever started stocking the break room put them in the cabinet.”

Drew swallowed, ate the whole bag, drank the can and managed not to throw it up, though his stomach twisted painfully. Lily was two years old the last time they’d seen each other. Why she was there, he didn’t know, but figured, like Elizabeth wouldn’t go away until she’d gotten whatever it was that she wanted. Elizabeth was still calling him to set up a time, to say something, to do something that he didn’t want to do.

So he walked down the hall with TC and looked into the waiting room while TC waited by the door. It was mostly empty with the exception of the two women. The brunette with the pixie cute sat down while the dirty blonde with the messy curls paced back and forth.

“Lil’ calm down. What good is being a bundle of nerves going to do you now?”

“I know… it’s just. It’s been so long, I just… I don’t know what to say… If he’ll even remember me.”

“Lily.”

She stopped looking at the door as the brunette turned around to see Drew standing in the doorway, looking at her warily. Her eyes took him in crossing the room slowly, steps getting quicker until her arms were wrapped around him.

“You’re alive,” she whispered. “You remember me?”

TC tilted his head listening with only half an ear while flipping through his charts.

“Yes…” Drew said softly. “I remember you… I’m… just a little in shock.”

She frowned, “Why?

“Why… are you here? If this is about their case—”

“What case?” She asked, “I’m here because I haven’t seen my older brother in twenty four years. I’m here because I wanted to meet you in person, get to know you… Get a chance to have you in my life…”

Drew swallowed and looked towards the floor as she took a deep breath, “I… I understand that it’s a lot… After everything they’ve done… I can understand that you’re wary…”

Drew looked at her a little more shocked than before, “You… you know?”

“Benadryl only keeps people out for so long,” she said and swallowed. “I don’t remember the details, but I know they were terrible to you. I’ve been looking for you ever since I turned eighteen and realized that Dad didn’t have you and Liz didn’t either.”

She chuckled, running a hand through her hair, “Should have seen the way I tore into them, all three of them and left the house. My name’s Lily Cayman now, by the way. This is my wife Aedan Cayman.”

Drew blinked look at the brunette who waved and smiled at him before looking at Lily.

“We don’t get along,” she said. “Because I can’t… I couldn’t stomach what they’ve done to you, but… I don’t want them to be the reason I don’t get to have my brother in my life…If you’d let me…I’d like to get to know you…. Dr. Andrew Alister.”

His heart quaked and maybe, just a little, felt the kind of warmth that only came when he was with Regina at her house. A cozy sort of wanted feeling… She’d been looking for him… Really been looking for him.

Lily at least… hadn’t abandoned him. He could trust that much couldn’t he?

“I’d… like that,” he said offering her a small smile as her eyes lit up. “I uhm… how long will you be in town?”

“As long as I can. My job is pretty much work from home and Aedan’s job has been begging her to come do some work for them here anyway.”

He nodded as she dug out a piece of paper and a pen to scribble her number on before offering it to him.

“Call, text, smoke signal… I’ll answer. I promise.”

He nodded and when she hugged him again, he managed to wrap his arms around her and squeeze back. There’s a choked sound from her as she buried her face in his shoulder and squeezed tighter. She and Aedan grab their purses before leaving Drew standing outside the hospital regarding the piece of paper with an odd lightness. Sindia smiled at him.

“So many warm fuzzies!” She said with a grin and he nodded, typing the number into his phone and sending a text.

_It’s Drew now._

*

Halle stepped out of surgery feeling a little more than triumphant, because hell, she was totally on point and between her and the surgeon, the man would make a quick recovery. When there’s a loud sound, like gunshots she grips the edge of the wall and steadies herself, breathing around the panic until she lays eyes on the source of the sound outside… Someone had set off fireworks nearby.

She took a deep breath and walked towards the nurse’s station to trade out the charts.

“You okay?” Jayden asked.

She nodded, “Fireworks.”

Scott found TC in the break room, sitting down and staring at nothing. His eyes were distant, fogged over, a hand wrapped around his thermos so tight that he isn’t sure how he hasn’t broken it.

Scott narrowed his eyes and checked his watch.

“Are you on break?”

TC didn’t reply for a moment, his eyes drifting up slow before speaking, “Yes.”

“I need you to take a surgery…”

TC stared at him, watching his lips move, but he couldn’t hear it over the thudding of his heart. It had taken everything in him not to throw himself to the ground at the sound of the first explosion, or go running down the hallway, but the fireworks were still going on. He heard nothing beyond that and smelled the bitter scent of an explosion just missed and burning blood.

Another explosion goes off in his head and he’s tossed back into darkness.

Scott waited a full minute for TC to talk, to agree, to say anything but nothing happened.

“Dr. Callahan?” He asked. “Are you blatantly ignoring me?”

TC blinked slow, his eyes dazed out Scott growled, turning to go get someone. He ran into Jordan first.

“Scott?”

“Where’s Ragosa?” He asked.

“I’m not sure. What’s wrong?”

“Dr. Callahan.”

Jordan frowned following him toward the break room where TC remained stock still, flinching at every sound of the fireworks. His hands over his ears now. Jordan shook her head.

“TC? How much have you had to drink?”

She’d seen this before, when the alcohol migraine got really bad, the way he covered his ears and bit back the ringing in his ears.

 _I’m here. I’m in San Antonio. I’m here. This isn’t real._ But he’s standing in the middle of the bullet-shredded square as another bomb drops and he follows his platoon away from the site. A figure throws a ball into the air.

_Grenade!_

TC runs heading up the rear, firing and counting the second he had left before racing forward and throwing himself over a rocky bank as the explosion went off.

“TC?” Jordan asked, tapping his shoulder. “TC? Have you taken anything?”

“Drunk and high?” Scott asked glaring at her. “Make an excuse for him now.”

Jordan looked at him, “Don’t start this, Scott.”

The door opened with Sindia, pulling Halle and Landry along.

“Major bad feeling,” she said and looked forward to see TC, curling tighter into himself, hands over his ears.

Halle’s eyes widened, the sound of the fireworks loudest here… Loud… like a bomb.

“Blankets, juice or soda, Lorazepan or Ativan,” she rattled off and Sindia went rushing away. “And find Drew.”

“What?” Scott asked. “He doesn’t need any of that. He needs to be held accountable for his actions.”

Jordan stood up starting to talk to Scott, “Don’t make this personal, Scott.”

“Look at him! You call that being a doctor? How can you even try to make excuses for him. Look at him!”

Halle kneeled, a hand on his forehead, speaking softly. He was cold to touch, getting paler by the second.

“Talk to me, TC,” she said softly. “Where are you?”

“ _Fifty clicks south of Lashkar Gah, give me an ETA—Wilson’s hit and we’re losing North._ ” he said, his voice urgent but so far away.

“ETA in two,” she said softly. “You keep him alive you hear me, Callahan?”

“ _Roger wilco, just move your ass and learn to aim goddamn it._ ”

She kissed his temple going to the refrigerator, emptying a bottle of apple juice and setting it in in the microwave to warm. Scott and Jordan seemed to be pulled out of their arguing as Ragosa came in to cut them both off from bickering like children and explain what the hell was going on.

Halle ignored them in favor of walking the hot mug of apple juice to TC and putting it below his head so he could smell it. Slowly, like dripping molasses, he blinked, his body relaxed and his eyes focus past the sand, past the blood and the radio. He hears choppers in his ears and smells apples. A steaming cup in front of him and he grunts, his hands dropping as he looked up at Halle kneeling at his feet.

“You with me?” She asked.

He nodded slowly, “What… happened?”

“Drink this,” she said as Drew came in with Sindia carrying an electric blanket, one he recognized from his office and wrapping him in it and plugging it in. Then the shaking started and someone came to take a blood sample. He was so confused that he wasn’t even sure what was happening, only that he couldn’t hold the cup straight so Halle traded it for his thermos. It tasted like caramel apples now instead of just apple juice and there was an odd feeling in his body, a weird taste at the back of his mouth.

He heard Regina’s voice in his ear, then Gwaine’s telling him something, but he wasn’t sure, trying to keep conscious.

“I’m taking you off rotation,” Jordan said. “Until this whole thing gets resolved.”

“Scott’s writing you up,” Halle looked at her.

“For what?”

“He’s obviously not in the best state,” Jordan said gesturing to him. “He was fine earlier.”

Halle narrowed her eyes, “What do you mean he was fine earlier?”

“He was on life flight with Topher earlier.”

Topher arrived to explain that the incident had escalated pretty quickly. There had been some shots fired at the scene where the fireworks were coming from, no one was hurt and the patient was conscious and on pain meds. TC had gotten pale, but he didn’t seem to be affected beyond that. He did his job, got the man back and was very active in the time after. Sindia shook her head, checking the IV line while Halle looked at Landry.

The blood panels take a while as they run it three times just to be sure, people that aren’t told whose blood it is and wouldn’t care either way. TC’s clean and Scott can’t seem to understand it when Landry says TC had an NES episode triggered by PTSD.

“It was probably delayed because of the situation,” she explained. “He isn’t drunk or high.”

“Then he needs to go get some help instead of wasting time and resources in an already understaffed hospital.”

He left then, storming out as if that would make his point more valid. They get TC into a storage closet that’s practically sound proof, lay him down, take his phone and pager and tell him to rest.

TC blinked up at Halle as she pulled the blanket over him.

“I fucked up, didn’t I?” He asked.

Halle shook her head, “You didn’t do anything wrong, TC. Just get some rest, okay? We’ll check in on you in a little bit.”

He nodded slowly, “What happened to me?”

“War,” she said and kissed him gently. “And that isn’t your fault.”

*

The Lincolns all go to San Antonio when it’s time for Rick’s check in and meeting with the VA doctor he’s been assigned to. He checks his mail at his PO Box finding a letter from the United States Army, explicitly telling him that he is no longer eligible for deployment due to his injury. Whether he will remain a member of the US Army or be discharged is still up for debate.

“I guess that means you’ll make it to more holidays then won’t you?” Angela asked trying to see the bright side.

Rick crushes the page in his hand and tells her, “Yeah. I guess so.”

“Have you called him?” Kimberly asked.

“No.”

Kimberly nodded, “Right…Kind of a lackluster response there.”

“I don’t want to talk about it, Kim.”

He crutched forward ignoring the way people look at him, his dog tags around his neck, with sympathy.

 _Thank you for your service,_ they say like if they say it enough, it’ll given him back his leg, or make up for the fact that he’s lost it at all. He hates it.

They’re on the way to San Antonio memorial when he calls the VA hospital again. His doctor is busy again and the nurse is trying to weasel out of being on the phone with him. It works, because Rick can’t stomach the thought of yelling at her to get the bastard on the phone.  She tells him that a letter regarding his medical records status was sent to the address they had on file for him and until he received that there was nothing she could do, but tell his doctor to give him a call when he had a chance.

He’s so angry that he doesn’t pay attention and ends up falling on his ankle even harder than before. He feels the shock of pain through him and screams.

Loud, angry, and resigned.

It’s a scream of something like surrender.


	14. One Maniac At A Time, We Will Take It Back;

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Team Krista (Whoo!) Team Papa Lincoln (Whoo!)... and Rick... please give Drew the dick soon. Thank you.

Kimberly runs into the hospital grab someone to help him even as Rick is screaming in pain, cursing, his eyes burning. William managed to lift him off the ground and get him into the wheelchair they’ve brought.

They get him into the ER, a triage room and it’s Krista who comes in, accompanied by Jordan who looked a little more stressed out than the last time he’d seen her.

“Rick,” she greeted with a smile, “Nice to see you… though not in these circumstances.”

He grit out a greeting as she worked on his ankle. William goes to run an errand, grab them lunch maybe, leaving Kim and Angela in the room with him. It doesn’t take long for Krista to realize the way Rick is flinching means that its more than his ankle that hurts.

“Mind if we take a look?”

He clenched his jaw but obliged. Kim’s face flushed with rage, the way William’s did when he got pissed off. Angela looked horrified as Krista lifted his shirt up to see the large bruises blossoming up his hips and across his shoulder.

“What the fuck, Ricky?”

“Kim—”

“He did this to you didn’t he?” She asked.

“No, Kim—”

“He sure as hell let it happen!”

She turned then and all he can do is yell after her as she walked to the nurse’s desk and asked for Dr. Alister.

“Mom, stop her before she does something stupid, please.”

Angela nodded and went after her, but Kim was faster, on a warpath towards Drew who was currently in a half embrace with TC.

“You!”

TC turned hearing the voice, but not fast enough to stop the arch of her punch.

“Asshole!”

Caught off guard, Drew crashed to the ground. The woman had a hell of a hook, TC moved between them before she could do much more.

“Kim!” Angela yelled, “What—”

Drew looked up at her yelling at him and his insides twisted. The world got quiet. Blonde, angry, angry at him. He blinked, in his mind curling up, covering his head as she kicked and screeched.

“…My brother is miserable because of you! Hiding him like some dirty secret—you let him get hurt. You don’t even have the sense or heart to call. You stay away from him, you understand? You stay away from my brother. He doesn’t need you or your fucking issues.”

The security officer has arrived by now to escort Kimberly away from Drew with Angela laying eyes on Drew who’s wearing a haunted look that she hadn’t expected. If anything, she could approve of her sons taste.

“Kimberly, what the hell were you thinking?” Angela asked.

“You don’t know what that man has done to him,” Kimberly seethed. “Years of hiding him away. Rick comes all the way home after six months of being state-side acting the way he is. It’s more than just his leg, it’s him too! He deserved it—”

“Kim!” Rick yelled, gaining her attention, wheeling himself with forward, his ankle wrapped and casted in a non-walking cast for safety. “What the fuck did you do?!”

Drew is still on the ground, frozen, his eyes drifting toward Rick in the chair, his eyes falling to Rick’s casted ankle, the bandages peaking from the collar of his shirt, then to his face, Angela’s and Kimberly’s back. Their eyes meet for just a second and Drew rolls to his feet before covering his mouth and practically running down the hall. TC called after him, but didn’t give chase, clenching his hands and turning—fuming.

“You didn’t see him,” Kimberly said. “Did he cheat on you Rick, is that what happened?”

“What?” Rick asked. “What the hell are you talking about? Drew wouldn’t cheat on me.”

“You sure? He seemed rather cozy with—”

“Dr. Callahan,” Rick said looking at TC who marched towards him, eyes furious and glaring at Rick.

“Who gives a fuck—”

“You,” he growled, taking control of Rick’s wheelchair. “With me. Now.”

“Who the fuck do you think you are—”

“I’m Drew’s brother,” TC glared at her. “And if you were a man, I’d have kicked you ass by now.”

Kimberly’s eyes widened as TC spun the chair around and walked it down the hall leading to the nearest empty room that closed and locked.

“It’s like the temper gets worse for every child it’s passed on to.”

She flushed and crossed her arms, “Still don’t think he didn’t deserve it.”

There’s a woman turning then, one she recognizes from Rick’s room advancing on her when Kim terms and feels pain exploding across her face.

“Krista!”

It doesn’t end there though because Krista is pinning her down and punching her again.

“Krista!” Kenny said again while Paul moved to lift her… or at least try to, talking to her, trying to get her to calm down, but Krista is yelling, something about Drew, something about punching her lights out. Kim catches her arm but Krista just head buts her in retaliation and it’s Halle and Jayden that get Krista off and drag her away, kicking and screaming that the blonde woman had no idea what she’d done, what Drew’s been through.

Angela is someone how keeping Kim from going after the doctor being dragged away as she screams down the hallway about kicking her ass.

“Try it bitch!” Krista yelled back as Jayden and Halle  try not laugh and continue to get her down the hall.

They get her into the break room, tend her fist and the wipe the blood from her face from when she’d apparently broken Kim’s nose.

“Damn, girl,” Jayden started. “Ride or die for real, huh? I need more friends like you.”

Krista barely gets a laugh in, “I’m… going to get wrote up for this aren’t I?”

Halle nodded, “Oh yeah, but we’ll vouch that it was in defense of another staff member.”

*

The door closed and TC parked Rick’s chair in the middle of the room. It was the kind of room people went to get off their feet for a while and breathe before going on through the shift.

“This isn’t exactly the best way to start the fucking shift, Rick.”

“I didn’t—”

“I’m not fucking finished,” he said cutting him off. “I get it. You’re hurting, you’re suffering. I understand what it means to have something crucial to your life, your sense of purpose taken from you. I get it, but damn it Rick I don’t care.”

Rick blinked.

“Drew is my brother and if I have to handcuff him to something while I beat the shit out of you for everything you’ve put him through for something that wasn’t his fault, I will do it--without hesitation.”

Rick nodded, he knew that, knew before he’d ever met the man how close Drew was to his brothers.

“How… has he been?” Rick asked.

“You could have called to find out,” TC said making Rick wince. “You could have said a little more than _I’m moving out_ when you left.”

“He didn’t seem to care either way,” Rick said bitterly.

“Drew doesn’t do arguments,” TC growled. “You think after being yelled at for trying to help you off the floor, he was going to put himself in the line of fire by asking? Hell, you’re lucky he even had a farewell to give to you.”

Rick shut his mouth.

“Fair.”

At least the idiot could admit that much. Maybe Rick wasn’t a hopeless case after all.

“He’s been staying with me since he almost got sick eating only Frosted Flakes for every meal for a week straight.”

Rick swallowed thickly and almost chuckled… Drew had always stocked Frosted Flakes in the apartment for him, “He looked… exhausted in the footage.”

“He is,” TC said. “After all these years… I thought… he would have grown out of it, but he hasn’t. Hasn’t grown out of the need to hide how he’s actually feeling and just agree.”

“Why?”

TC looked at him, “He… didn’t tell you?”

“Tell me what?”

TC let out a breath and cursed, “That’s up to him to explain. Just know that if you don’t fix this… and I mean as soon as possible. I will find someone to kick your sister’s ass while I beat the living snot out of you, alright?”

“I’ll deal with Kim,” he said. “I’ll… I’ll talk to Drew.”

“Fix it,” he said. “I mean it or leave permanently, understand?”

He flinched at those words and TC glared at him, “He loves you. Still loves you and that’s huge. Be worthy of that, you understand?”

Rick nodded and TC let out a breath, “I have brotherly and doctoral duties to deal with. Deal with your sister.”

Rick nodded, unlocking his chair and wheeling out of the room after TC who left and turned the corner. Rick didn’t ask for directions, instead rolled to the first nurse he saw and asked for directions back to the ER.

TC walked quickly towards his office. The door was ajar and he knew he’d made the right decision. He took a deep breath before walking in slowly. The light wasn’t on, but he didn’t need it to find Drew. He sat down in the rolling chair and rolled towards his desk to see Drew, curled up, face crushed into his knees, a slow silent stream of tears, his body rocking slowly, back and forth.

It hurts to see him like this again, reduced to that jumpy four-year old again.

“Hey, Drew,” he said softly, sliding off the chair. “Mind if I join you?”

Drew shook his head and TC slid closer, sliding an arm around Drew to still his rocking.

“Come here, Drew,” he said softly. “Just breathe.”

It takes a while to get him to unfurl and let TC hold him, but when he does the sobbing starts, words of guilt and pain and regret pouring out. TC waits until Drew’s said it all, let everything out he’s been hiding for months, to speak in low soothing tones.

“I’m calling Mom to take you home with her,” he said gently. “I’ll be there right after shift, understand? You’ve done nothing wrong. It isn’t your fault. You did all you could.”

“ _It wasn’t enough,_ ” he said softly. “ _It’s never enough._ ”

“It’s more than enough, Drew,” he whispered, kissing his temple and gritting his teeth. “You’re more than enough.”

Drew doesn’t speak after that, just resting against him breathing in the scent of TC’s new soap, sweat, curling up in TC’s strength and breathing softly. When Drew’s breath evened out, TC called Regina and let her know that Drew had had a panic attack, that he’s calm now, but he’s in no shape to work the shift tonight.

“I’m on my way,” she said and TC hung up. He wraps Drew in a blanket to ease the shivering and gets him to the locker room to pack his bag and get him to the break room. He makes him a cup of that caramel apple magic Halle made for him the week prior and puts a top on the cup before handing it to Drew.

He took a deep breath and walked to find Jordan. He found her in her office.

“Jordan,” he said. “I need to talk to you.”

“Hopefully to explain what the hell that was earlier. Where is Drew?”

“He’s in the break room,” he said. “Breathing, coming out of a panic attack.”

“Panic attack? He’s an MMA fighter, you can’t tell me that he’s freaked out because a woman punched him.”

TC tilted his head and took another breath, reminding himself that he’s not there for himself, but for Drew. His hands close tighter on the chair he’s leaning forward against him as he watches her flipping through paperwork, scrolling on her laptop.

“Drew has been under a lot of stress for the past few weeks. Kimberly, Rick’s sister, punching him was just the last straw. I’m asking you to let him go home.”

Jordan stopped, mid-flip before looking at him, “He’s on shift tonight.”

“I know that,” he said. “But he isn’t in the position to tend to anyone.”

She licked her lips and looked at him, “I can’t do that, TC…”

TC let out another breath, “Why not?”

“There’s no logical reason for him to have to leave.”

“Except that he’s barely keeping himself above water.”

“If I let everyone go home when they were having a bad day, you realize that we wouldn’t have much of an ER staff, don’t you?”

The fact that she could say that and not hear what she was saying…

TC let out another breath, “Drew isn’t having a bad day, he’s having a bad few months.”

“Well he’s not alone in that. Ragosa’s on me for everything, Scott seems determined to get you fired, you have an episode in the middle of shift, the nurses seem to be partially on strike, we’re borrowing medicine from another department, I’m at war with the CNO--we all have our problems.”

TC nodded watching her knowing that she was a lost cause at this point. It had always been hard for her to see beyond her own suffering… even when she’d caused it. His eyes flicker across the pages and realize that they’re operational records from the ER and medical requests. She squinted at the screen even though she had perfect vision. It makes him think of her sizeable apartment near John Hopkins, her study that was more chaos than order and wonder if she still used the color system he’d shown her.

“I don’t have time to deal with this, TC. Do you see this nightmare I’m dealing with right now? Can’t you find some way to solve this without causing more problems for me?”

TC’s stomach twisted seeing her, frustrated and thinking that yes… he’d contributed to that look of frustration. He stepped forward, moving the chair out of the way before gathering the pages into a stack. She watched with a morbid fascination as he sorted and ordered them though he couldn’t have been standing there for longer than a few moments. He clipped them for her and stacked them in order. She watched him as he organized her desk, setting her pens back in the cup, stacking the pages and binders in order, setting her laptop on its docking station and moving her screens apart so the desktop appeared on both screens. A few key strokes later, the report she was looking at was enlarged and he turned.

It’s like the first time he came to her apartment all over again and saw the disaster that was her dining room table, more expensive than his, but not the level of quality as her parent’s dining room table. She’d flushed, having him over hadn’t really been planned, but she needed his help and his apartment was just a little too far for a midnight walk. She lived just off campus, didn’t have a roommate and saw no reason not to invite one of the brightest students in her class to her apartment.

 _No wonder you’re so stressed…_ he’d said gathering the pages on her desk and organizing them into neat stacks. TC was the one reason she managed to not spend five minutes before every class searching for her papers when they’d dated. He’d had the sort of calming, easy-going presence that made her relax. The sort of mind that could sort through her mess and make sense of it… the kind of mind that had given her order, made her see beyond the lines that had been given to her and find ways to make them work.

“You always were bad with paper,” he said kindly before setting a package of pistachios on her desk and stepping back to leave her office. “Eat something before you get a headache.”

It’s an oddly intimate moment that makes Jordan’s heart quake. Words at the tip of her tongue, swallowed as Scott walked down the hall as TC exited and went towards the break room.

“I’m sending Drew home,” Scott told her as he looked in and his eyes widened. He’d been in her office just ten minutes ago and it had been a nightmare, she was agitated and squinting at the screen…. It looked like a disaster zone.

Now, it looked like a functional office… at least her desk did. The day shift’s side of the office always looked organized, though he was sure that was more or less because the day shift ER had far less paperwork than the night shift did.

“You… organized…”

“You said what?” Jordan asked looking at him.

“I’m sending Drew home. He’s got some sort of stomach flu. Last thing we need is a doctor of the ER in the ER. And I’m writing Krista up.”

“Right…”

Regina walked into the building hugged TC and looked at Drew who looked ashamed, changed to leave. She only smiled at him.

“Come on, dear,” she said kindly. “Let’s get you into a snuggie.”

He shook his head, but followed her out the front door. Krista waves him goodbye with a bandaged hand as TC walked out to see them off.

“I’ll be by as soon as I’m off. Get some rest, Drew.”

He nodded slowly and left with Regina. TC grinned and turned as Scott came around the corner.

“Dr. Clemmens,” he greeted, standing in front of him. “Thank you.”

His eyes narrowed suspiciously at TC, “For what?”

“For sending Drew home. He needed it.”

“Yeah and now we’re down a doctor at an already understaffed hospital. Hope you’re ready to pull your weight.”

TC chuckled and walked past him, grabbing his and Drew’s charts before heading to do rounds. TC worked through the first half of the shift before crawling in to a cot with Halle for their mid-shift break. He isn’t surprised when he finds out that Krista had fractured Kim’s jaw and broke her nose shortly after he’d wheeled Rick away.

“Remind me to give that girl a hug.”                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                 

They sleep for thirty minutes as TC wakes up mid-way through feeling an itch beneath his skin that involved getting Halle’s pants and underwear off and spanking the hell out of her before fucking her senseless. She came once from the spanking and then again from him inside her, screaming into the cot.

“ _Fuck Halle,_ ” He panted. “ _So fucking good…_ ”

“ _Thank you, sir…”_ She said and then gasped, covering her mouth. He blinked but before he could say anything she’d sat up and pulled herself together.

“Halle!”

She rushed out of the closet, walking too fast for him to pull his clothes back in order before chasing after her, but she was already engaged in conversation and when it was over he strolled over, wrapping an arm around her bicep.

“ _Don’t run from me Halle,”_ he said soft and hard. He watched her shudder, the way her head tilted down.

She’d had training, maybe serious training and it almost burned to make him think of whoever had done so with jealousy and pride. She’d trusted someone enough… but whoever that person was wasn’t here any longer.

Their loss.  

“ _I want an explanation,_ ” he said against her ear, looking over her shoulder. “ _But I’ll give you time, understand?_ ”

She nodded a soft “yes, sir” sliding from her lips before he kissed her neck and let her go.

“Good girl, go on.”

She made a tiny sound as he turned around to talk to a doctor who’d called his name. She walked away quickly, disappearing around a corner. TC grinned a little inside… that could be fun.

When the shift ends, Halle is nowhere in sight. Maybe she left early, maybe she was just avoiding him, he wasn’t really sure, but he drives to Regina’s house, park’s his bike beside Regina’s car and walked in, giving his mother a kiss to the cheek and laughed. She had in fact gotten Drew into a snuggie, printed with Buzz Light Years. His cheeks were flushed warm and he looked cozy, lounging on the pull out couch.

“It’s perfect.”

“I saw it and thought how could I resist?” Regina said. “I was making breakfast, hungry?”

“For pancakes? Yes of course!”

They have berry foster on their pancakes, per Drew’s preference, and squeeze together on the couch on either side of him, sandwiching him in tight before Regina begins a very long play list of animated movies starting with Toy Story. TC gets called in a few hours after he’s gone to sleep on Drew’s shoulder, sometime after the first Toy Story. He kissed them both goodbye before heading back to the hospital and gets back knowing that Drew would be just fine with a few days of being smothered in the way that only Regina could and rest.

*

“What the fuck happened to your face Kim?” Rick started and she crossed her arms. “And what the fuck? Are you a child?”

“He deserved it!”

“No, he didn’t. You’re just hot-headed!” Rick glared. “Still doesn’t explain your face.”

She huffed, “I thought he was cheating on you.”

“Why didn’t you just—”

“Because you didn’t want to talk about it remember? And he kicked you --”

“I left!” He yelled silencing her.

“He didn’t kick me out. I left… And even if he did kick me out that doesn’t mean you punch him, Kim. Jesus,” he said looking at her across the table. “Still… doesn’t explain your face.”

Kim huffed, “Perhaps your boyfriend got himself a girlfriend from the way she punched me. The bitch that was treating your leg.”

Rick almost laughed, “Krista? Krista did that to your face.”

She glowered at him and winced at the twinge of pain in her face before returning the ice pack to its place over her eye. Krista had apparently been working out with Drew to catch Kim off guard and do that much damage in what he could only imagine as a short amount of time.

“Krista is one of Drew’s best friends,” Rick told her. “And you totally fucking deserved it for punching him. What were you thinking?”

“I… wasn’t,” she admitted with a huff and roll of her eyes. “I’m sorry.”

“You should be,” he said. “You’re going to apologize to him…”

She looked at him, “I take it his brother said something.”

“A lot actually,” Rick said, “There’s… a lot of things Drew hasn’t told me about himself… that may explain…why…”

Why he reacted the way he did sometimes… If it was medicine, he had no problem using his authority, but it felt more like a loaded gun that he kept for protection or a megaphone rather than just a need to be right or any belief in his authority. Otherwise, he seemed to hold on as tight as he could for as long as someone was there to hold on to, willing to be held on to… it wasn’t until he’d told the other to go away that the other had begun to retreat… Not so much pull away as retreat, run hide, and try to disappear into the background…

God he was such an asshole….

“Where’s Dad anyway?”

She shrugged, “Mom said he went nostalgia driving…”

Rick nodded and picked up the phone, as Kim told him that she’d grabbed his mail from the PO Box and hands over the stack.

“Captain Lincoln,” he answered.

It’s the woman from the VA hospital and as he begins to open the letter from the VA claims department he’s excited if only because it means something is coming, something great and—

His eyes flicker over the letter, hearing the woman’s words.

“… I can refer you back to the hospital you were treated in to see if they can refer you to a specialist, but the VA is unable to provide a referral.”

The letter tells him that he’s been honorably discharged and his health insurance would end in July. They’d pay him until then and they thanked him for his service.

“ _Sir? Sir?_ ”

He hung up the phone and stared with disbelief at the page.

“What’s wrong, Ricky?”

“So much for taking care of their own,” he said putting the page in front of her.

*

William Lincoln grew up in Brenham, Texas, went to school in San Antonio… enlisted in San Antonio and somehow ended up in Louisiana where his wife was was born. He’d been away for a long time and a lot had changed…

Except Schilo’s. They’d changed the decorations a bit, remodeled, but it still held that same charm as the last time he was there.  He would have felt terrible if he’d gone another week without coming here… especially after hearing that Kim got nearly curb stomped by an ER doctor.

His children… _God help him._

He walked to the bar and took a seat beside a young man with a bruised cheek clenching a glass of ice water and shaking. The chain around his neck made him think military.

“What can I get you, sir?” The woman behind the bar asked.

“A Shiner, one for him too.” The young man looked up and began to speak but William cut him off, “Whatever has you shaking isn’t going to get gone with a cup of ice, trust me on that, kid.”

The man swallowed and looked back to his cup, taking a deep breath as the woman filled two glasses with just enough foam to make William grin.

“Perfect,” he said.

“Thank you, sir,” the man said softly dragging the beer towards him and taking a sip.

Sitting beside him William recognizes him from the television, his son’s medic… his son’s boyfriend. What the hell had him looking so haunted and what the hell happened to his face?

 _Kimberly,_ he almost groaned, almost positive that she was responsible. If there was anything he wished hadn’t been passed down to his kids, it was his temper. He thought it would have gone to Rick, but it had stuck with Kimberly even now. Hot-headed girl that she was, she was overly protective of Rick even though the man had been trained to kill. That would explain why the ER doctor had felt the need to curb-stomp her.

Turn-about was after all fairplay.

“Pardon me for being blunt kid, but what the hell happened to your face?”

He chuckled a little, low and a little sad, “My issues have a mean hook.”

He nodded, “Sometimes we have to accept the ass kicking even if we didn’t deserve it… Life’s a bitch like that.”

Drew nodded and glanced at him, there was something hauntingly familiar about some of his features, but he couldn’t really figure out. He might have been imagining it, there was a lot going on in his head at the moment including the swelling of his face.

“Military?”

“Retired Grunt,” he said. “Officially a veteran, three tours. You?”

“In Reserve,” he said. “Gotta finish med school before I’m deployed again… then they own me for ten years, but I’m a lifer.”

He grunted, taking another drink, “My son would have been a lifer.”

He swallowed, “KIA?”

He shook his head, “Two tours to hell, nothing worse than a sunburn. His luck was bound to run out. Lost a limb, VA being a dick, and dealing with the wait.”

He nodded swallowing thickly, “My ex… lost a limb on the way back.”

“Ex?” He thought. “The reason you’ve got that shiner, I take it?”

“His sister actually.”

 _Kimberly,_ William thought and watched the man get tense.

“I mean—”

“You said what you meant, kid,” he said taking a gulp. “Chill. I think if I can handle my son finally telling me he’s gay after all these years, I can handle a young grunt letting it slip.”

He nodded slowly, “Is that why you’re here?”

He snorted, “God no. I always had a feeling about him. Hearing him admit it aloud was more like a homecoming. So long as he’s happy, I could give a shit who he loves so long as they treat him right.”

“He’s lucky to have a father like you.”

“Guess it’s got to balance out his sister and my wife… My daughter’s always known, but my wife… it’ll take some time. Set on grandkids from him you know?”

Drew nodded and took another drink.

“I’m more worried about him and his boyfriend though… I’ve seen him down, but I haven’t seen him like this…”

“Like what?” Drew asked.

William shook his head, “Punishing himself like this. Like it’s his fault that he got hurt… like he’s intentionally making himself feel worse. I want to tell him to go grab his boy and give him a blow job. Probably make them both feel better.”

Drew coughed, beer almost sneaking into his lungs. William grinned.

“My daughter thinks he was cheating, but I’m convinced it’s more complicated than that…”

Drew nodded, “Have they talked?”

“Nope,” he said. “Told my son he’d better put his head on straight, from what he told me, his boy’s a catch and it won’t take long for someone else to notice it.”

Drew chuckled, “Good advice.”

“You and your boy split for something dastardly?”

He shook his head, “It just… didn’t work out.”

There’s a darkness that colored his tone that made William frown, “What do you mean?”

“I…” he said. “I… wasn’t enough I guess… I wasn’t the right… kind of…I’m not sure anymore. I know he’s hurting but… he wouldn’t let me in. Didn’t want my help…And I… I can’t argue.”

“Can’t argue? Or won’t?”

There’s a smile to his lips that tells him that Drew is about to disclose something that he hadn’t disclosed to many people. How beat down did he have to be feeling to pour his guts out to a complete stranger at a bar? William took a drink. He supposed that all the “go see a therapist” mumbo-jumbo about talking to a stranger about your problems had some merit… even if it did seem like a load of crap to him. How did people think people became important to other people? By pouring out their guts to one another.

“Maybe… both. My own parents… abandoned me when I was a kid…Even when they were there… it was better to pretend I didn’t exist. It felt that way too while he lived with me after the surgery… He was in so much pain and I just wanted to help, but he didn’t want it. Didn’t want me to be near…”

William gripped his mug tightly and took a deep breath. Did Rick know? If he did, he’d punch his son in the face. If he didn’t… he may still punch him in the face he wasn’t sure. He’d gotten his terrible ability to deal with his feelings from his mother, he knew that but William thought that at least a little bit of himself had gotten into his son, somewhere.

“There’s got to be something wrong me, right? I got adopted and I love them… She’s been more of a mom than I ever dreamed of having after four years of hell. I got three brothers that never made me feel like I was unwanted… even now. I guess… that’s the best I can hope for… and eventually I’ll learn to be satisfied with that.”

 _But not happy,_ William thought taking another drink.

Drew’s hip beeped as he finished the rest of his drink and he opened his phone.

“Hello?... Yeah. Alright. I’m on my way.”

He hung, “Duty calls…Thanks for the drink.”

William nodded as Drew slid his glass forward, bid the woman behind the bar goodbye and turned to leave.

“Hey kid,” he said catching his attention so Drew turned around to look at him.

He holds his gaze for just a moment before speaking, “You see that boy of yours, you tell him that loving him after everything you’ve been through… loving him still after everything that’s happened makes you the bravest man he’s ever met. And if he doesn’t pull his head out of his ass, you’ll shove your foot down his throat.”

Drew laughed and grinned, “Not much for threatening, but I’ll let my brother know that.”

“You have to learn to argue,” he said. “You have to fight again.”

Drew stopped swallowing thickly as the man grinned, “Soldier on, kid.”

“Thanks.”

Drew waved the bartender goodbye and walked out she sighed deep.

“He’s such a sweetheart,” she said with a shake of her head. “If he wasn’t batting for the other team, I’d be all over it.”

William snorted, “My son would have a fit.”

Her eyes widened looking at him and then to the door Drew just exited.

*

Drew walked himself into the breakroom at around four in the morning and poured himself a cup of coffee. Praying that he could drag himself to the end of shift and maybe pass out at the Broadway when he hears a voice complaining.

“The rest of us don’t get up at the dawn of _why am I awake_?”

“Serves you right,” Drew froze, ducking around a corner and praying that something would happen just so he wouldn’t have to see them.

“Incoming! Major crash ETA in ten minutes!”

“Drew with me!”

Kimberly turned hearing the voice over the commotion before searching for him in the fray. He’s moving, checking the triage and prep rooms when she stops him. He paled, stepping back, focused on her bruised face and the brace holding her nose aligned as she huffed.

“I’m sorry,” she said, making his eyes go wide. “I’m extraordinarily protective of my brother and a hothead. I shouldn’t have punched you.”

She walked away then, leaving Drew almost more confused than before she started talking, but there was no time for that as he heard the sirens and finished checking the rooms were fully stocked, before scrubbing up and rushing to help get people off the ambulance. Yelling the words over his shoulder, practiced, medical terms that make him feel at ease, because it’s something he knows, something he knows to the core of himself, that he can’t mess up… Being a doctor is settling in ways he can’t explain and for a full six hours, Rick, Kimberly, his parents, Elizabeth, his past, and everything just goes away.

His mind is quiet, too full of medical terminology, research, training, adrenaline, knowledge to listen to the demons. There are people to take care of and when the fray is over, TC grinned at him, rubbing his hand playfully across his buzzcut.

“Looks like berry foster did more than just help your mood,” he said with a grin.

Drew flushed and turned his face back to his charts, “Leave me alone so I can fill out paperwork. Not everyone remembers every detail like you.”

TC held up his hands, “Don’t forget that she had a med necklace.”

Drew frowned, “What?”

TC tapped at his throat, “The choker she’s wearing, it’s a med necklace.”

Drew wanted to ask how he could have possibly known that but he caught a glimpse of Rick wheeling himself down the hall speaking with Halle and Scott. He turned back to his paperwork and filled in the information, not forgetting to write down that there was a med necklace before walking to the triage room to get the information off of it. The EMT had told them when she came in what she was allergic to as the woman was still awake, but it never hurt to double check. Her allergies weren’t of concern, but the fact that she was diabetic was.

“What happened?”

“Alaia, I’m Dr. Drew Alister, how are you feeling…”

She swallowed blinking and looked at him, “Alister… You’re the hot army guy that stopped the shooting.”

He flushed, “Uhm… yes.”

“My friend’s started a new yaoi series based on you and your boyfriend… Thank you for being hot.”

He laughed watching her eyes, hazy with pain and meds, but alert enough to recognize him. That was good. “You’re welcome I suppose… How are you feeling?”

“Great… you call—“

“Lai’?”

“Never mind,” she laughed as a girl came in rushing to her bedside.

“I came as soon as traffic would allow. Are you okay? Is she okay?”

Drew smiled, “A few fractured ribs and a nasty bump to the head, but she should be fine.”

The woman stopped, “Oh My god… you’re Dr. Alister!”

“I already told him,” Alaia said, drowsily. “Did you bring my stuff?”

“Yes,” she said producing a folder and a vial of insulin.

“She had her last shot this morning.”

He grinned, “Good. Then it’s probably time for another one. I’m going to get your CTs, feel free to take a seat.”

He walked out with an odd grin on his face.

“What so funny?” Jayden asked.

“Someone is writing a yaoi story based on that news clip… what the hell is yaoi anyway?”

Sindia grinned, “Only the greatest thing to ever exist ever.”

He shook his head, “Are those CTs back yet?”

“Yep,” she said. “Don’t think you’re out of the explanation mister.”

He nodded, “Got it.”

*

“I’m terribly sorry to hear that,” Scott told him. “We don’t have a specialist, but I can at least provide a list of some in the area.”

Rick wasn’t sure how to take that as he left.

“Was that a … we can’t help you, but I’ll give you a lollipop?”

The nurse laughed as she continued her examination, “More or less.”

Rick let out a breath and looked at her, “Is… Dr. Alister here today?”

She nodded, “Drew’s here. You want to see him?”

He nodded and Halle pat his shoulder, “He wants to see you too.”

He nodded slowly and he swallowed thickly as Scott came back with a pamphlet that said something about “living without a limb” and a list of places that had specialists for prosthetics.  He wanted to punch the man in the face…. Because seriously? That’s the best he’s got?

Halle shook her head, “Someone skipped a class on bedside manner…”

Rick laughed watching her open her clipboard and hand him a folder.

“Move Beyond The Horizon?” He asked looking at her.

“You’re Drew’s boyfriend,” she explained. “So You’re practically family. I’d be remiss in my duty as a good friend if I didn’t help. Take a look at the program, their contact information is inside. If you call, tell them you got the info from Halle Martin and they’ll get you taken care of.”

He nodded slowly, “Thank you…”

She smiled and nodded, “I’ll get—”

The door opened, Kenny stuck his head in, “Hal’ we’ve got a situation in the ER, could use some back up.”

“I’ll be there,” she said.

“Good to see you Rick.”

“You too, Kenny.”

He left then and Halle shook her head, “I’m sure your family will be back. Stay off that ankle for a while longer. With any luck, I’ll be able to steal Drew away.”

Rick shook his head, “It’s okay… I’ll come back.”

Halle nodded and headed out. Rick opened the folder to find that it was more of a brochure, bound together like a magazine of information and pictures, contacts and the like. A completely volunteer based program, paid for by the company to develop a new type of prosthetic. When Kimberly and Angela came, he borrowed Kimberly’s Samsung to bring up the website and watch the promotional video for the program.

_My name is Sandra Octavian and I’m a piano player. I lost my left hand in a building collapse last year._

_My name is Owen Leto, no relation to Jared, and I’m an artist. I lost the use of both of my hands and the use of my lower body three months ago._

_My name is Eva. I’m twenty years old. I’m studying dance at Juliard and I lost my right leg and permanently damaged my pelvis in a car accident nine months ago._

_I’m Sasha Roiz and I’m an automechanic and I lost both of my legs in a bout with bone cancer eight years ago._

_Former Captain Lilianne DeLeon of the United States Army, thirty-nine years old and I lost my right leg and left arm on my last tour, three years ago._

Kimberly and Angela watched over his shoulder as the five of them were seen sitting at a round table. The missing parts they spoke of, out of view.

“ _The five of us are the first generation participants of the Move Beyond The Horizon Program through Credne Technologies.”_

He swallowed watching the video hearing their stories. They sat completely still, talking about their lives after their injuries, a round table discussion about how they all found Move Beyond The Horizon and Credne Technologies, named after the smith who helped a mythological king retake his kingdom by making him a new hand in Irish mythology. He wasn’t familiar with the story, but understood that the company focused on restorative technology, therapy and the like. Move Beyond the Horizon was one of the newest sectors of the company specializing in prosthetics.

“ _The first few weeks were hard. They had us do all these random tests… I was… tired for most of it.”_

“ _I was so… pissed off,_ ” Lilianne said. “ _The Army discharged me, my husband left me, I wasn’t in a good place, I was in a damn wheelchair that I couldn’t even roll myself…I… I can’t explain how… lost I was._ ”

“ _There were a lot of people in the beginning. We’re the only ones that made it through the program though… A lot of people lost hope pretty quickly. They thought it was just a simple physical therapy program…”_

Kimberly frowned, opened the rest of the file and read the rest of it, the explanation of the science behind this new prosthetic.

“ _Not going to lie… I was ready to give up a couple of times myself,_ ”Lilianne said. “ _My old platoon told me I’d better not or they’d kick my ass… they actually showed up._ ”

“ _I remember that! You all were so cute together._ ”

He laughed at that and the footage that came. The way they saluted her and told her in no uncertain terms to “get up or she’d be doing laps until her other leg fell off.” She laughed, her cheeks getting wet with tears as she nodded.

The video is about twenty minutes long, talking about certain aspects of the program, the challenges and the rest before the interviewer could be heard.

“ _Is there anything you want to tell the next generation of participants?”_

 _“Soldier on.”_ Sandra said. “ _It’s totally worth it._ ”

When they all stand, exchange hugs, his breath choked because there had to be a trick in this video. They didn’t seem to be using any sort of prosthetic. Though the photos that had been montaged over their introductions definitely showed them without limbs. They moved to another section of the room and Sandra sat behind the piano and began to play something like the tango. Lilianne and Sasha pair together, Owen and Eva paired together and they danced, something practiced he was sure. The camera faded to them again. Sandra held up her hands side by side, wiggling them and then moved her bracelet to reveal the shining silver seam. She pressed her finger where her thumb would be attached to her palm and pulled the hand clean off.

“What the hell…”Kimberly said her eyes widening at the shiny disk at the end of Sandra’s left arm.

She replaced the arm, rolled her wrist and slid her bracelet back over her wrist and grinned. When the video ended, Kimberly makes a noise of suspicion.

“Sounds rather iffy,” she said. “Did they give you any other options?”

Rick swallowed, “A nurse gave me the folder, someone who’s friend with Drew.”

William came in grinning, “How’s it going?”

Rick handed the phone to him to let him watch while Kimberly didn’t seem to be convinced.

“There are other specialists around—”

“VA won’t cover it without a reference,” William said, flipping through the website.

“Then we’ll find a way to pay for it. How expensive could it be to see a specialist and get a prosthetic?”

William looked at her, “A lot. Any time there’s a specialist involved, it’s expensive and VA very rarely covers specialist work… especially if they’re planning to discharge you… not to mention physical therapy.”

“I’m at least going to go see,” Rick said. “It won’t hurt to go see.”

Angela nodded, “If that’s what you want to do.”

Kimberly didn’t look happy about it, but she kept her mouth shut as she was officially on the burner for punching Drew—even if Krista did partially rearrange her face in retaliation.

“I guess… the worst that could happen is that you end up where you were.”

Rick laughed, “Was that supposed to be encouraging?”

Kimberly wrinkled her nose, “How about we get something to eat?”

Rick nodded, hauling himself into the wheelchair before rolling forward and past the ER. Drew is distracted, talking to Kenny about a patient’s charts when they go past and Rick only smiled at the way Drew’s voice was so certain.

He liked it that way… Liked that Drew was standing on solid ground somewhere even if he wasn’t solid everywhere. Maybe…just maybe… Rick would get to solid ground soon too.

“Great,” William started. “Now that Rick has some direction, it’s time for a family meeting.”

Angela looked at him strangely because William never called a family meeting… Ever.

“You feeling alright Dad?”

“Much better than your face is feeling I’m sure,” William said earning her shock and Rick’s hiss. “Serves you right for letting your temper run amuck. You’re damn near forty years old. Grow the fuck up. You resort to violence all the time and it’ll get you killed one day.”

She winced and looked away, it had been years since he’d used that tone on her… yet somehow it was no less effective.

“You’ll be apologizing to Drew—”

“I did—”

“Like you mean it once Rick gets his head out of his ass,” William looked at him. “Not entirely your fault for being emotionally awkward as shit—but that’s not an excuse for leaving the way you did. You will also be fixing this –immediately. He is probably the bravest man you’ve ever met and he deserves better from you.”

Rick swallowed and nodded and finally William sighed and looked at his wife Angela.

“What?”

“This… is all your fault,” he said. “You’ve passed down emotional non-communicado to your son.”

“And what about your temper?”

“I grew out of it, her inability to express herself any other way also falls on you. Furthermore, Rick being gay has been as obvious as red paint on a white background since he was in middle school. Join the 21st century and accept that adoption, surrogacy, and no grandchildren are all options and the only options if you want a kid from Rick.”

She let out a breath and looked away as William took a deep breath, feeling immensely accomplished.

“Everyone has their assignments, let’s move out.”


	15. Because The World Is Just A Teller

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Secrets~!!!   
> Jordan x TC = tense...  
> And San Antonio Memorial is on the way to... Who the hell knows?

Jordan isn’t sure what she’s hearing, but she knows that it’s good for the hospital. San Antonio Memorial had been annexed into a larger network of hospitals that would be rolling out some Healthcare Professional Health Initiatives as well as some VA care. The representative is a kind looking woman in her forties more than likely, smiling politely at the room of shift heads, heads of departments and, of course, Ragosa.

“Would this have anything to do with the snacks in the break rooms?” Someone asked and the woman laughed.

“Yes, that is part of it, with more things to come.”

When the meeting is over, she isn’t sure what to say about it all and luckily there are other issues pressing to the forefront of her mind in the form of the new flood of patients into the ER that keeps the entire shift busy well into the night. When everyone has been taken care of, stabilized, she makes her way to her office and takes a seat. Ragosa finds his way into her office not even a few moments after she’s taken a seat.

“What can I do for you, Ragosa?”

He took a seat and set a letter on her desk, taking note that it’s significantly more organized than the last time he’d come in.  She glanced at him and then to the page.

“What?”

“Exactly,” he said.

Jordan groaned, reading the page announcing that they would be audited and rather than the initial week or so they would be there, they’d be coming for three months to watch hospital operations, to observe them and take note of everything. More importantly, they’d be coming the day they’d scheduled Scott to go attend the Southwest Medical Conference.

“No…”

Ragosa shook his head, “We’ll have to pull out—”

“Are you crazy?” She asked. “Have you any idea what the Southwest Medical Conference could do for San Antonio Memorial?”

Ragosa shrugged, “It’s a crap shot at best. Scott’s not a conference sort of doctor.”

Jordan swallowed, crap shot her ass. Anyone who’d been to the conference, or even kept their ears partially to the ground knew that the Southwest Medical Conference as hub of medical activity… That meant new residents, new doctors, old doctors…. And donors, which San Antonio Memorial desperately needed… On the other hand, Ragosa had a point: Scott was not the conference kind of guy. He could be personable, but he had that air about him that wasn’t suited for conferences.

“I’ll get someone to cancel—”

“Don’t,” she said. “Let me find someone to go.”

Ragosa shrugged, “I’m counting on you Jordan to keep this zoo in line long enough to keep all of our asses out of the unemployment line.”

“Right…”she said with a nod watching him go before leaving her office to look for TC.

She found him in the workout room on break, shadow boxing with Paul and Drew.

“TC, I need to talk to you.”

He stepped out of the way of Paul’s swing before throwing his hands up, “Pause!”

Paul let out a breath, bending over and out a breath as TC turned to her and grabbed his water bottle. She remembered it from John Hopkins, though the lettering and insignia had chipped away. She was sure the thing had been run over, lost in the library, or had just broken along the way… but apparently not.

“You still have that thing?”

He grinned and looked at it fondly, “We have great memories, what’s up?”

“I need you to go to the Southwest Medical Conference.”

Paul looked up and Drew stopped mid-swing as TC blinked.

“Come again?”

“I need you to go to the Southwest Medical Conference to represent the trauma department.”

“And what does our _head of trauma_ have to say about that?” She swallowed and TC made a sound, “No.”

“I’m not asking,” she said. “I’m telling you that you’re going in Scott’s place.”

Drew and Paul did their best to make themselves disappear into a corner, but it was hard considering that the work out room was only so big and they could only pretend so long that the tension was palatable.

“And if I refuse?”

“Don’t become a problem for me, TC.” She said. “Just—”

“You do this Jordan,” he said, cutting her off. “And there’s no going back… for either of us.”

Her breath caught in her throat as their eyes met and she licked her lips. There was that tone. A warning that she was crossing a line with him, a line that she hadn’t realized he had, but maybe should have known better. She didn’t know if he was still active in the conference or research world, but she doubted it since he probably didn’t have enough time, or enough clarity, to do so. Regardless of that, she should have known that he wouldn’t take kindly being dictated to about something that was definitely not in his job description and leaned more on the side of a favor than anything.

“For the hospital,” she said. “Could you go for the hospital?”

He gave her a wry smile. That almost sounded like negotiations…but still no apology. Shame, but progress he guessed. He remembered, not so fondly, how stubborn she could be.  

“The hospital audit will be starting at the same time, so Scott can’t go, but San Antonio needs to be represented. I don’t have to tell you how important it is, now more than ever.”

TC took a drink from his water bottle, regarding her, watching her being extremely uncomfortable under his gaze.

“Have you talked to Scott about this? Ragosa?”

“No,” she said. “Not yet.”

“Then I’d suggest you do so,” he said pleasantly. “Otherwise this conversation is kind of pointless.”

She huffed, “Will you do it?”

“If they agree.”

She… she could work with that… she nodded. It wasn’t exactly the response that she wanted but it would do. She left then and Paul let out a low whistle.

“That wasn’t tense at all…”

TC grinned at him, “And you still need a better stance when throwing a punch.”

*

Jordan left the work out room and went straight to the nurses desk.

“You missed Scott, he went to talk to Ragosa,” Sindia said, flipping a page

 _Shit_ , “How… did you know who I was looking for?”

“You need to convince him to let TC go in his place, of course you’d be looking for him.”

It never ceased to amaze her how uncannily accurate Sindia could be.

“Any suggestions?”

She snorted and looked at her, “Tell them I have a bad feeling, which I do, about letting Scott go. His last bout with a medical conference wasn’t all that great, now was it?”

Jordan groaned but nodded, that was perfect. As much as Scott didn’t believe in things that couldn’t be explained, he’d seen first-hand that Sindia’s feelings were unerringly accurate. She was probably the only reason that they didn’t run out of medicine as quickly as they should have as she always ordered extra just before they were in danger of running out during the next crisis. She nodded and breathed deeply before knocking on Ragosa’s door.

“Come in.”

Ragosa looked at her and smiled—weird enough.

“Jordan, good to see you.”

“I talked with Sindia and she said that she had bad feelings about the conference—“

“We’re sending TC.”

Her eyes widened looking between them, the argument dying her throat, “Come again?”

Ragosa nodded, “It’s perfect. He’ll be gone for at least three days of the audit. He’ll read the speech Scott has written and we’ll be without incident, hopefully, while he’s gone. Plenty of time to figure out what to do about the rest of the audit period.”

“Right… well… that’s…”

A knock sounded on the door and TC came in looking between the three of them.

“TC,” Ragosa greeted. “Take a seat.”

TC looked at Jordan, then Scott, before shrugging and taking a seat. It’s an almost hilarious moment when Ragosa slides the speech across the desk from him and the itinerary for the conference. He didn’t seem bothered, smiling politely before taking the pages and glancing over them. The smile is slow, wry, humorous and he tells them that he’ll do it, no problem, before getting up and leaving the office. Jordan can hear him stifling his laughter, reciting bits of the speech.

“ _…over a thousand cases a year with a staff of...”_

Jordan found him in the break room later, giggling as he reads the speech.

“TC,” she started. “I am begging you not to give that speech.”

He shrugged, “Sorry Jordan, Ragosa and Scott kind of out rank you.”

She knows from the way he’s giggling that Scott wrote the speech. It wasn’t that Scott was a bad orator or a terrible speech writer, it was just that he didn’t quite understand conferences. He was more on the book reading side of academia rather than the book writing side and research. He, like Jordan, came from a world where everything was given and they’d never had to ask for anything really. He and Ragosa had probably crafted the speech like a presentation to a financial board rather than a speech to a board of donors which Jordan knew, only because of TC, was an entirely different audience all together.

“Silver cloud with grey lining,” Sindia said coming up behind her and walking to fill her cup.

Jordan huffed, “TC—“

“Scott and Ragosa,” he repeated continuing to read over the speech with a bit of a chuckle.

Jordan walked out knowing that with TC’s new promise to “toe the line “ and stay out of trouble, there was nothing she could do, but offer a prayer to God that TC would bring back some money. She’d seen TC present, seen him at conferences, how comfortable he was speaking with people that could and would donate, to explain his research, on a stage… how he knew just what to say to get people interested and willing to listen further. Scott and Ragosa had none of that magic on or off a stage.

So when Jordan calls the mid-shift meeting, she isn’t in the best of moods. She tells them of the schedule of programs that will be rolled out and tries not to be distracted by the way TC rests his head on Halle’s shoulder and wraps his arms around her waist… the way her hand threads through his hair, gently stroking his scalp. It’s an easy intimacy they share that makes her blood burn, remembering that it used to be her… and how affectionate TC could be. It probably didn’t help that her relationship with Scott seemed to be on the rocks at the moment and even when things were at their roughest, TC always had a moment of tenderness for her… a touch of the hand, a smile, dinner on the table…He always apologized.

“The Hospital will be under audit for two months starting the fifteenth. That week will be a little different as we’ll be down an NPR, a surgeon’s assistant, and an attending.”

Kenny let out a low whistle, not good.  

“I am also pleased to announce that Dr. Callahan will be resenting—I mean representing the trauma department at the Southwest Medical Conference,” Ragosa said.

He laughed, “Freudian slip there?”

Ragosa glared at him.

“I’ll only be a mouthpiece.”’

The cheer goes up anyway.

“Along with the food that’s been stocked in the breakrooms, there are other events that will be posted on the bulletin boards. I believe the next phase in massages happening on Tuesday, Thursday and Saturday. Students from the massage school will be here filling their hours and giving out massages all paid by the hospital so take advantage.”

“ _This has you written all over it,_ ” TC said in Halle’s ear and kissed her neck. “Suspicious.”

Halle pouted, “I’m not suspicious.”

“Very suspicious.” He said. “Are you free after shift?”

“I should be,” she said. “Why?”

“Come over?” He asked. “I’ll make breakfast, we’ll cuddle a bit… without the scrubs getting in the way.”

She smiled, “Sounds good.”

“Awesome,” he said with another kiss. “I’ll meet you there?”

She nodded and kissed his cheek as the meeting drew to an end and she was called to help someone in a different department per the CNO’s orders. TC realized about an hour before shift that she wasn’t on the approved visitor’s list and so would have to go through the hassle of getting buzzed up. Damn, he’d have to take care of that and the approval process took _forever_.

Somehow, it works out all right since he waits in the lobby for her to park, with her visitor’s badge and walks her up to his condo on the twenty-first floor.  He makes breakfast, standard fare and gets her pretty much naked and in his bed within a few hours to sleep.

When they wake up, it’s more than a few hours before shift and the time stretches out before them, lazing in his bed, touching as much as possible without saying much.

“You’re a … pretty open-minded person aren’t you?” Halle asked.

TC snorted, “You could say that. What is it?”

“I uhm… About what happened before…”

TC leaned up on to his elbow and look at her. He was sure that the dimness of the room was helping her stutter through what he was pretty sure would be the death of him. He’d had a feeling from the first time they’d had sex that maybe Halle had a kink or two… yet the way she was breathing through her explanation.

“I have a kink,” she said. “Like a pull my hair, spank me kind of kink.”

TC grinned, “I like both of those things.”

She licked her lips, “Among… other things…BDSM kind of things…”

“Careful,” he told her, “You may find out exactly how much of a freak I am.”

She bit her lip and looked at him, searching his face for something but when she couldn’t find it she asked, “You’re… okay with that? I’m not saying you have to do anything, just that…to explain before.”

He nodded, “Can you explain why you’re obviously so hesitant to talk about it?”

She took a deeper breath and he realized that this was actually probably the part of it all that she didn’t like to talk about. He stopped smiling then, watching her face and setting a hand on her waist.

His name had been Mark, they’d met and started dating. Apparently, he’d dabbled in BDSM before, but wanted more control than she was willing to give, too fast… in bed, out of bed.

“He wanted to know everything I was doing… my research… everything.”

He frowned not liking where it was going.

“I drew the line between our relationship and my work, he didn’t seem to like it but… we went on and he chilled out a bit.”

Mark took her to a club, one she’d never been to in New York before a conference she was set to present at. She hadn’t told him anything about her research or anything she was looking to do afterward, the project at all. They went to the club and ended up in a private room. There was a dungeon attendant around, but somewhere in the middle he’d disappeared.

“He blind-sided me,” she said, swallowing and shaking a bit. TC’s stomach twisted uncomfortably. “Got his arm around my neck and strung me up…”

He’d said he’d tried the easy way, but he’d run out of time to get her out of the way. Gagged her, blindfolded her, beat her more or less, tortured her before leaving, the door closed, the light off with her alone in the dark, in pain. It wasn’t until another dungeon attendant came in to clean the room that anyone had found her.

She remembered screaming, thrashing around though she couldn’t really move. The attendants had been gentle, assuring that they’d call anyone she asked, breathing softly, shaking. They’d called Evan, who’d taken her back to her hotel to find it trashed, her laptop gone, everything gone through. She’d sat down on the edge of the bed and laughed, shaking in the blanket she’d been wrapped in with Evan called the police.

The police had written it off as a “burglary” and dismissed the assault charges all together since they were in a BDSM club.

“Assholes,” TC said shaking his head.

“That’s what he said.”

She shook her head. She’d gotten through the night, Evan had stayed with her. Her aunt had come the next morning to tell her to ruin Mark’s life as her uncle Cinaed had already had all of her things uploaded to a new laptop, wiped clean and tracked to the asshole.

She’d gone to the conference, roiling, her stomach churning and sick, but she’d smiled and changed her presentation all together, not because she feared Mark stealing elements of it, but because she had something better, something truer to say about her research and the impact it could have. Mark had been in the audience looking as if he’d seen a ghost. She’d gotten through it and at the end learned that the tech company he worked for needed capital… and her research had been a major threat to that. She’d taken every donor off the market and that tech company fell to pieces soon after.

“I see...This Mark have a last name?”

She laughed, “Not one I’m going to disclose to you.”

“Not even if I ask nicely?”

“Not even,” she said and TC nodded. “In any case… I kind of cut myself off from… sex and kink and sex and kink together after that…That was four years ago.”

TC sucked in a breath that felt more like a punch to the chest, “ _Four years?_ ”

She nodded, it had also been the point where she actually started wearing and collecting lingerie. Something in her subconscious had snapped and flooded her with a distinct in ability to see her own body… A dysmorphia that had made getting dressed harder and harder. When she’d gone into working, wearing uniform it had gotten easier. It had been a move towards healing and settling in her skin again. She’d gotten into various types of therapy and had been in a good place when she’d met TC.

“While I hate the fact that it started that way, I do appreciate it,” TC said with a groan, skimming his hand over her hip, over the thin strip of delicate lace.

“You’re okay with all of this?” She asked.

TC grinned, “Once upon a time, I dabbled.”

Halle’s eyes widened as he grinned.

“Friends from undergrad up through med school… I still see them when I can… The beater, the beaten, and the switch.”

She burst into laughter then because who gave their friends those kinds of nicknames?

“Per the beaten, I’m a natural Dom.”

“Right…”

“That’s what he said the first time I scened with him.” TC grinned, “I’ll let you be the judge of that if you want.”

The words tremble between them for a moment before Halle’s alarm goes off and it’s officially time to start getting ready to head back to work. Halle isn’t sure why, but she knows that TC has revealed something huge to her. It wasn’t unheard of straight men to Dom other men, but she doubted that there hadn’t been something more.  She climbed in her car as he swung his leg over his bike and stared at the steering wheel for a little bit.

_Tap tap._

She turned her head to look at him, his Harley rumbling idle beside her car, his helmet under his arm. He motioned to roll the window down and she did.

“What’s—”

TC leaned forward to press his lips to hers, his hand around the back of her neck, gentle, firm and distracting, so close to her hair line that she shuddered.

“How was that?” He asked, gently meeting her eyes.

They were soft, warm, pliant, relaxed and so dark he thought he might drown in them. His lips were tingling for god’s sake.

“Good…”

“FYI, I am Illyria,” TC grinned as she laughed. “In case you wondered.”

He kissed her forehead, “Thank you for trusting me. For telling me…”

She smiled and nodded, “Anything else you want to tell me, I’m all ears.”

“Thank you for trusting me,” she replied.

The other words, she kept behind her teeth as she smiled at him, before he kissed her again and bid her goodbye.

“See you at the fray.”

She grinned and started her car, following him out of the garage and laughing when she saw him in the locker room.

“Had a nice view?”


	16. And We Are Wearing Black Masks,

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> His name was Mark Worth and Halle must be more of an influence on TC than he thought... Clearly he must ~~love like~~ feel something too big for words Halle very much.
> 
> Warning: fuckboys, DarkSkinStruggle, and general sexiness

“You hanging in there?” Drew asked coming up behind him.

TC sighed, “I can’t… sit in my office.”

“Why not?”

It’s the grin that tells him that he really doesn’t want to know. Halle had left almost four days ago, taking the day shift, handing off, and reappearing in what could only be considered a dress made for Texas spring time: a sundress in a bright green that fit her sinfully. She’d disappeared for most of the thirty minutes of hand off before waltzing out with her suitcase rolling behind her and into the spring air. 

“I don’t want to know. You’ll be out of the hospital soon.”

“TC,” Scott called. “Are you prepared?”

“Prepared as can be,” TC said with a polite grin. “Promise to read it word for word.”

Jordan seemed to pale behind him and TC couldn’t bring himself to feel guilty or bad about it. When the shift ends, he walks straight to the locker room to grab his backpack and itinerary. Jayden tells him to bring back some money while he packs mini-pastries into the lunch bag he bought to carry Tupperware full of lunch. Jayden and Drew have a good time making fun of him.

“You’ve got it bad,” Jayden said. 

“Hah, hah,” he said, filling his mug and leaving to get on his bike. Jordan runs to him before he can get on his bike. She watched him put his lunch bag in his saddlebag, strap his backpack on his back and swing his leg over the bike.

“TC,” she started as he looked at her and put on his helmet. 

She hadn’t known he owned a helmet, she’d never seen him wearing it before.

“Have a good trip…”

TC glanced to Scott and Ragosa standing at the entrance, talking, “I’m sure you could use a break from me. Tell them I’ll give the speech word for word, just like Scott would give it.”

She winced and that makes him laugh as he slides down the visor and starts his bike.

“Please tell me you’re joking,” Jordan said.

“Is this the face of someone who would joke about that?” He asked with a feral grin and Jordan isn’t sure how to answer that.

On the one hand, yes: grinning like that usually meant joking. On the other hand, TC had been oddly conforming lately. 

“I’ll even try to eat up the Q&A time. I’m sure Ragosa and Scott will appreciate that.”

“TC!”

He cackled a bit and steered the bike away from her.

“TC! So help me I’ll—"

“What?” He yelled back, making the bike coast out of the parking lot, revving the engine louder. “Can’t hear you! Sounds like text book scenarios and bureaucracy!”

“TC!”

He laughed, coasting away from her, to ride past the front of the hospital and on to the street. She yelled after him, but he couldn’t hear her over the sound of the wind and his own laughter. 

He arrives at the airport with plenty of time to spare before being seated. He’s in the economy class at the very back with no leg room and squished between two people who look as though they’re uninterested in granting him any space. It’s a nearly 3 hour flight… 

They’ve reached cruising altitude when he gets the woman on the other side of him to talk to him about the book she’s reading. It’s a romance novel with just enough kink to make it un-koscher. The man on his right is looking more and more uncomfortable in his seat, but since he’s been unkind enough to take TC’s arm rest for his own, and most of his thigh space, he can’t bring himself to care.

“I’m reading it for a class, Modern Love and Fetish, we just got to the fetish part and it’s getting… steamy.”

TC grinned, “Favorite kind of romance.”

She flips to a page detailing a scene that makes him grin, because yes he needed more inspiration in his life, when there’s a panicked sound from farther in front of the plane.

“ _ Sir? Sir? Are you all right? Sir? _ ”

TC looks up as a flight attendant comes barreling down the path towards the commotion. It’s only a few more moments between then and the announcement across the plane.

“Is there a medical professional onboard?”

TC snorts as the man beside him grumbles that he didn’t get on a plane to help anyone and more importantly he’s a dentist. 

“Is there a medical professional onboard?”

TC manages to squeeze by the dentist and walk down the aisle.

“Sir, if you could—”

“I’m an ER Attending.”

They look skeptical for a moment, but he moves past them towards the man, shaking in his seat. His eyes have rolled back and he’s a little past non-responsive. He reaches for the wallet-sized kit Halle bought him for Christmas and unfolds the stethoscope to check the man’s pulse. It’s erratic as expected, but it makes the flight attendants back off so he can have some breathing room to assess the man. Seizure obviously, but the cause of it was something else. 

“What happened?”

“He was complaining of a headache, asked for food, but we ran out of practically everything except soda. Chelsea was supposed to bring him one.”

Figures, he’s got on a flight on the only airline that doesn’t have real food on it. 

“Then he started shaking.”

TC shook his head, figures as she glanced to the woman who looked disinterested. The man had probably been rather irate with her.

“Was there anything else that you can think of?”

“He was really anxious, we thought he was just a nervous flyer, but then his speech was slurred so we kind of figured that he was drunk…”

TC shook his head and asked for a bottle of water, some salt, sugar, something to heat it up and make it fast before the man went further into hypoglycemic shock. 

Chelsea rolled her eyes, “How do you know he’s just not epileptic?”

Another attendant moved to the back of the plane to get him what he asked for while he unraveled an IV line.

“I’m a doctor, and his medical bracelet says he’s diabetic. Stress and diabetes don’t mix well.”

The woman came back with a bottle which he uncapped and poured a bit off into a cup and setting it to warm and dissolve the sugar and salt he measured into it. He asked the plane if anyone had any rubber bands or a length of cloth while he created a hole in the bottle cap, strung the line through it and sealed it with medical tape. Someone offered up their tie and he promised not to get blood on it while tying it around the man’s arm: once around his arm and chair for a restraint, and once around his arm for tourniquet. Once he’d threaded the line with a clamp, dissolved the salt and sugar into the rest of the bottle and shook, he pulled on a pair of gloves and rubbed over the emerging vein with an alcohol wipe and slipped the catheter into the man’s vein, removed the needle and secured it with medical tape. He attached the end of the flushed line, checking for bubbles, before attaching it to the catheter and holding the bottle upside down pricking the bottom of the bottle for airflow and watching the drip. He loosened the tie to allow blood flow, but kept it tight enough to restrain. The drip was steady and it seemed as though the entire plane was watching rapt with fascination as TC kept the stethoscope to the man’s chest and listened to his heart slow to a normal pace, watch the shaking stop enough that he could take the tie completely off.

The pilot has called the airport to tell them that they’ll need a medic ready to receive them when they arrive, but TC doesn’t leave the man’s side until he’s awake, groggily looking at him. 

“Hello, Sir,” he said with a smile. “My name is TC, how are you feeling?”

He groaned and blinked squinting at him, “th’izzy… hungry… wha’ ‘appened?”

“You went into hypoglycemic shock. When was the last time you ate something?”

“’ermany…” he said and TC nodded calling out to ask if anyone had any sort of candy. 

The cutest little girl, no older than Tegan, offered up a bag of Skittles while her sister directed her phone’s camera at TC and their mother, from the look of them, only gave him a misty smile.

“My daddy’s got diabetes too,” she said giving the man the bag of skittles. “Here you go, mister.”

“Thank you,” he managed with a smile as TC grins at the child and tells her she’d make a great doctor. 

TC holds the bottle above the man’s head, getting to switch his seat with the man behind the one on IV so he can continue to monitor him through landing. When the medic comes on board, TC hands him the bottle, tells him that he’s been given an 500 ml IV of 10% glucose solution, Skittles and he’s conscious. 

They nod, take his statement, contact information for record and get the man off the plane.

“Thank you,” he said as they wheeled him out, carrying the rest of the bottle with them. 

He grinned and told the man to take it easy with a smile. The plane goes up in applause as soon as he’s getting back to seat to grab his bag. He’s sure that he’s gotten at least fifty different phone numbers, but he only manages to remember one of their names, Olivia, the girl taking Modern Love and Fetish and a promise to send her a list of places to go if she wants to view a scene up close and personal. 

He gets to the checkout desk of a car rental company that he’s never rented from to be told that his reservation was for a car he couldn’t even get his legs into.

“Tell me… you have another car.”

“I’m sorry sir, but the medical conference is going on… we’re all booked up.”

TC shook his head and pulled out his phone while looking through the rest of his itinerary and telling the woman that he’d be right back. 

“Face-stealer, what can I do for you?”

TC laughed, “I’m in Phoenix Arizona for the med conference… tell me you own something near here that I can waltz into? Something near the Arizona Biltmore?”

Gwaine hummed, “Give me a second…I should…”

TC prayed and thanked the god and wizard he was named after when Gwaine gave him contact information for the Trillium44 and that someone that Gwaine worked with would give him keys to a car and an apartment while he was there.

“I love you.”

“How could you not?” Gwaine asked with a chuckle. 

TC let the woman at the desk know that he’d be canceling his reservation before calling the hotel in Mesa to tell them that he’d cancel that reservation as well. He feels utterly superior as he gets in the cab and comes upon the Trilium. Margaret is in the leasing office with his keys, smiling at him and shocked.

“He didn’t say you were twins…”

TC grinned, “It’s in the face-sharing contract.”

She laughed, handed over the keys and lead him to the model he’d be staying in before showing him the car. He winced at the luxury, because really… was it necessary? Sure it was a low key Tesla, but it was still a Tesla. 

“Have fun,” she said as he threw his messenger bag in the car and climbed in to drive through Phoenix traffic to the Arizona Biltmore. The number of people milling about, didn’t surprise him at all, nor did the look on the kids face when he handed over the keys for valet.

“Try not to jizz in your pants, kid.”

He walked in to the check-in desk before handing over his confirmation page and ID so she could check him in and print out his badge.

“It’s all loaded up for you, Dr. Callahan.”

He thanked her, taking one of the innocuous lanyard that said “Southwest Medical Conference 2015” and walking on. It took all of three steps before he was given a brochure, a map, a list of events, and a whole host of free things. He flipped to see familiar names in several sectors. A few technology companies and John Hopkins representing as they always did: in a booth.

He wondered who was manning it this year…

“… pleasure to meet you, Dr. Martin. They didn’t tell me you were so beautiful.”

There’s a familiar laugh and TC tilted his head before turning to see her. She’s wearing the kind of red that makes a man not think about anything but a bed, cut so close to her form, that it’s almost a second skin. It’s professional, with just enough sexy to make people take a second, third, and fourth look. Heels high enough to make her legs look like sin, an anklet on one leg and her hair done in a crown of twists.

Wasn’t that a pleasant surprise? There was no mistaking her from any angle. He grinned and walked towards the two, not caring that that the man speaking to her was in full suit and he was in jeans, a clean dress shirt, and a blazer rolled up to his elbows. Getting closer, he noticed that there was something off about her, but he wasn’t sure what it was.

“You flatter me, Dr. Roth—”

“Please, call me Thomas.”

She nodded, giving him a polite smile, but not missing the way his eyes skimmed appreciatively over her. It wasn’t the first time she’d been hit on at a conference and it certainly wouldn’t be the last so long as she came… there would be someone she was sure. He’d caught her on the way back to the table, just after she’d seen Mark across the room, when he’d stopped her to speak with her about something he’d read of her work. Their eyes met and he’d smiled at her, the bastard. She’d been so shocked that all she could do was smile and entertain Thomas while trying to keep her breakfast down.

It was an easy trick: mention something she’d done, make her feel like she was important, interesting, before attempting to lay down a bit of charm… Happened every time… happened with Mark too. 

“A man doesn’t see a sight like that everyday…”

She tilted her head and turned to look at TC standing behind her, a conference bag on his shoulder, his badge around his neck and grinning.

“Well, hello you…” she greeted, “Dr. Roth, this is Dr. Callahan.”

“We’ve met,” Thomas said, just short of polite as they shake hands. 

“Long time no see,” TC greeted. “How are things?”

“Fine,” Thomas said shortly before TC asked Halle where she’d be around lunch time and dropping a kiss to her cheek before leaving her with Thomas to go wander around the convention. 

When he sees her later, speaking with an older man he recognized from another conference, she asked him what that was about.

“Thomas and I had a bit of a run in back when I was first starting to present for conferences…Double booking, he was an ass and we’ve never been cool.”

She could only imagine that it was more than just a run in. 

“You didn’t tell me you would be here,” TC said kissing her cheek. “If you did, I wouldn’t have been so sad…”

She grinned, “I wanted it to be a surprise.”

He nodded and licked his lips, “Best surprise ever…. Dr. Martin.”

She gave him a non-plussed look, “Not a medical doctor.”

He shrugged, “Bet you’re hiding all sorts of secrets,  _ Dr. Martin. _ ”

She huffed, “Whatever,  _ Dr. Callahan _ , I’m sure you’re hiding all sorts of secrets too.”

He grinned, “I’ll show you mine if you show me yours…”

She laughed and kissed his cheek, “If you’re good.”

“You mean, if you’re good?”

She blinked at his roguish expression, but smiled lightly, she should have expected that from him, really. It shouldn’t have caught her off guard, but it did in the worst sort of way. 

“I have a booth to man,” she said, trailing her hand over his shoulders. “Planning to go out tonight with some people from the convention, tell me if you’re coming?”

TC grinned, “Up to party? Hell yes. Any chance I could find out where you’re staying?”

She smiled, “It’s got a beautiful view, lots of space, king bed, and may or may not be called a Signature Suite.”

His jaw dropped as she nodded towards the elevator, “You’re staying here?”

She nodded, “My alma mater is paying for it.”

“I need to go to your school.”

She laughed and told him to keep her posted, to wander around and eventually get some sleep. She gives him a key to her room, the number and walks away before she can overthink it. It feels warm somewhere in his chest and he grips it tightly. Sure, it wasn’t the key to where she lived, but it was key to a space she occupied and given her history that was huge. His stomach twisted and he placed the key in the pocket of his blazer before finishing lunch and continuing.

“TC!”

He turned to see Iris Everett walking towards him. A lovely older woman who’d been a financial advisor for John Hopkins and now worked primarily for public relations for the university. He hugged her tightly.

“Aren’t you a lovely as ever?”

She rolled her eyes, “Somethings never change! What… what is that?”

Her eyes zeroing in on his badge with a fury and disbelief that astounded him. 

“I’m just a mouthpiece,” he said. 

“But… but… but…”

“No buts,” he told her and she huffed with frustration before dragging him back towards the check-in station to get a badge printed with John Hopkins. Though he wanted to fight it, Iris was pushy and not to be denied.

“Wear it backwards--I don’t care, but I’m not going to let them put you somewhere crazy and not get enough to eat.”

He shook his head and slid the badge behind the one that said San Antonio.

“Fine.”

“Almost… You have to come by the table to meet the two who’ve volunteered to man the table this year! They are just delights. One of them I’ve wanted you to meet for a while.”

“Actually… my girlfriend is here and—”

“What?” She said and he stopped realizing that he hadn’t updated her since the last time they talked…

“Erm… I’m dating.”

“You and Jorda—”

“No,” he said with a shake of his head. “Her name is Halle. She’s here and we haven’t exactly talked about… you know.”

She nodded, “Fine… but you’d better come see me.”

He nodded, “I promise.”

It turned out that not only did the John Hopkins badge come with better food, but access to the whole convention. Something that he wasn’t surprised as John Hopkins, more often than not made sure their students had everything they wanted and needed. He left the conference to catch some sleep before the night began. 

*

Halle made it to her suite and found herself a little disappointed that TC wasn’t there. Her phone beeped to tell her that he had to go turn in his keys, get his bags, and that he’d see her when he got back.

_ Any way I could convince you to get naked tonight? _

She laughed, sliding off her shoes and setting her tote down, texting him back on the way to the bathroom.

_ Surprise me, _ she said, biting her lip and grinning. 

_ Challenge accepted. _

She shook her head and ran a bath to soak in before closing her eyes and taking a deep breath. She’d made it through the day, shook his hand, smiled politely, fearless in her hot red dress. She would be just fine. TC arriving had definitely helped warm her up, but now… alone with no shield necessary, she felt it like ice blossoming in her chest, memories from before as she tried to breathe around it and sink into the warmth of the water. 

Her phone rings and she pressed the talk button and her Bluetooth earpiece.

“Hello?”

“Hey,” TC greeted, “Where is this shindig happening? And are you required to stay for long?”

She laughed, moving a bit to rest her head against a towel and sigh, “Not for long I’m sure… I never manage to do as much dancing as I want.”

“Oh? Why not?”

She hummed, “Mood gets killed pretty quickly.”

“I’ll have to fix that,” he said, keying in the code to the apartment. “You have to see me white boy shuffle.”

She laughed. Somehow she doubted that he was using that phrase the way it was meant to be used, or at least she hoped so. He told her that he’d take her to the club he usually went to when in Phoenix, a bit of a hole in the wall but great fun if she was up for it.

“Of course after wherever you’re headed kills the mood for you…”

“I’d love to.”

“Awesome,” he said with a grin. “Remember that you said surprise you.”

She laughed, “I will.”

“Are you alright?” He asked, sitting on the edge of the bed in the model. It isn’t nearly as comfortable as his own bed, but it would do for a few hours. “You seemed a bit off earlier.”

She smiled. The fact that he could tell was warming, soothing some of the places that ached.

“I’m a lot better now.”

It wasn’t a direct answer, but he wouldn’t push until he was there in person, where she couldn’t run from him and direct her panic elsewhere. He shook his head. He had it bad if he could tell, just from a glance, the quality of her voice, when she was avoiding him. When they hang up, TC finds himself still awake, thinking of Halle, listening to her words, the way she seemed earlier. There was an over compensation she projected, but he couldn’t really place. He’d figure it out if it killed him.

*

Halle climbed out of the tub soon after ending her call with TC, drying off and climbing into bed for a nap before she got ready to go out. Somehow, she managed to sleep easy and get up in more than enough time to turn on her “get ready to party” music and answer the door for the two women who were already dressed for the evening.

“You’re early,” she greeted, giving them both a hug and letting them in. 

“Figured girl time never hurt anyone,” Michelle said hoping on the bed and looking around the suite. She was staying in Mesa and had to fight the traffic every day while Halle had the luxury of staying on premise. 

“Must be nice to be J.Hop’s beloved.”

Halle’s stomach twisted, “They work me hard enough to make sure I have a good night’s sleep.”

She nodded and asked about where Halle was working now, how she was doing as Halle sat back down at rubbed body butter and silk over her legs, giving them just enough shine to be noticeable but not distracting.  She did her best to ignore the way they looked at her until they had something to say about the lingerie she wore. It really wasn’t that intricate of a body suit by comparison, all lace plenty of support, strapless. The pattern of the lace was less floral and more sheer. It was meant to be seen beneath strategically cut dress and had actually come with a dress, though she had several peep-show dresses that would do.

“How the hell are we supposed to go out with you in that?”

Halle tilted her head looking at the dress she pulled from the closet. It was more flutter than fitted in places, classy but sexy all the same and cinched around her waist with rouging adding to the image of her figure with strategic cut out panels to showcase skin or lace.

“What does that mean?” Halle asked. “I haven’t even put the dress on.”

“Don’t need to, let’s see the other one.”

Halle pulled the other option out and they groaned.

“Can’t never go nowhere with you.”

Her jaw dropped, “What is that supposed to mean?”

“We’re going clubbing in Phoenix, not Milan. I bet that dress cost more than my whole outfit.”

Halle rolled her eyes, “Do we have to do this every time?”

“Yes, can’t you ever just bring normal club clothes?”

“Like the rest of us broke people?”

“You know, this good Ross dress that hugs my ass just fine…”

“Spanx from Walmart,” Aria chimed with a nod.

“Heels from DSW.”

“Maybe lingerie from Lane…”

Halle put a hand on her hip and regarded them, “Really?”

“Not Red Bottoms and ‘ze finest lingerie that Milan had to offer in its fall collection.”

“And a dress that Marc Jacob carved while thinking of the Mona Lisa and meditating under a double rainbow.”

“In the middle of Central Park--”

“Which is obviously where your Aunt bought that dress,” Aria pointed out. “And that one.”

Halle laughed, clutching her sides and shaking her head as Aria stepped up to the counter to hijack a brush to touch up her make-up.

“Gotta beat the face extra hard tonight…”

“As every time you make an appearance—where the hell did you even get this from?”

Halle winced, “Florence.”

Michele looked at her, “You know what you can get me for Christmas?... Some of this shit you don’t use. You don’t even  _ wear  _ make-up!”

“Florence,” Aria hissed with a shake of her head. “What the hell do you know about Florentine make-up?”

“That I can take it back to San Antonio instead of giving it to someone who actually likes the stuff.” Michele’s jaw dropped as Halle gave her a look, “That’s what I know about Florentine make-up.”

“Cold, Halle.”

“Icy,” Aria said with a shake of her head. “Despicable.”

“You want it or not?”

“Well… if you’re just giving it away….and you don’t really  _ need it _ … I mean… I can take it.”

Halle shook her head and slid it across the sink to her. The box had Aria’s name on it and there was another in her bag for Michele as they were one of three women she knew would actually appreciate it, the other being Heather who used it for her photo shoots and had squealed with delight and wonder when she’d presented it to her.

“Still got to beat the face extra hard… I can’t compete with all that ass.”

Michele shook her head and looked behind to her own butt, “I’ve got a petite butt and yours shops in the women’s section.”

“Are you saying I have a big—”

“Fat ass,” Aria said. “Too fat in fact.”

“Too ridiculous…”

“It’s too fat for y’all man,” Michele nodded with a grin in Halle’s direction. 

“Just for that,” Halle said. “I’m wearing the purple one.”

“Hooker.”

She shook her head and went with the dark purple and black dress that fit a little looser, a decent length and tailored to fall evenly. It more draped over her—a halter top with a deep plunge meant to be worn with the kind of underwear that belonged in places far more scandalous than Victoria’s Secret. She tugged the chosen shoes out of the closet and set them on the counter beside her.

“Are those Manolos?” Aria asked looking at them.

“They definitely aren’t Manonos,” Michele said. “You know her Aunt is married to the lap of luxury right?”

Halle pouted and took the shoes back, “I bought these myself, thank you very much and they’re Louis’s.”

“Phoenix,” Aria said, blending her eye shadow. “Not Milan.”

“Would it help to say that I am happily taken?” Halle asked.

Michele snorted, “No. You know better than to think that “I’m taken” stops niggas from trying to hit.”

Halle grinned and nodded, there was a reason that “Run It” was such a popular song back in the day.

“Is your man on the floor—”

“If he is, fuck that nigga.” Halle shook her head, “Hell, having a man almost attracts niggas. Like a subliminal message saying  _ dick measuring contest, line up in order. _ ”

Halle shook her head, “You both have issues you need to work on.”

“But just as well,” Arai said. “I’m hoping that sexy, crazy doctor shows up later in the conference.”

“Glad you’re taken.”

Halle smiled, “Yeah… me too.”

They groaned, “Don’t.”

“We don’t even want to know….actually, if he’s hot we want to know.”

Halle shook her head, “Not telling, you’ll just have to meet him.”

“He’s coming? Good, big as flag that says,  _ taken _ . Good for you.”

Aria set down the brush in her newly acquired make-up kit and folded it back together before looking at Halle.

“Keep your big butt to yourself if he does come,” she said, adjusting her bra. “I need doctor money in my life.”

“Especially that sexy, J.Hop , Ph.D, M.D., Valedictorian money in my life.” Michele shivered, “Know wherever he’s going--there’s money.”

Halle shook her head, “What year? I might know him.”

“Obviously not yours,” Aria said with a roll of her eyes. “Don’t know, they aren’t ever specific. And if you do, keep your ass definitely to yourself and to your man, ‘kay thanks.”

Halle giggled.

“Nobody wants your wanna be sloppy seconds, Ms. Valedictorian.”

“Yeah,” Halle said with a shake of her head. “Are we taking—”

“Your car? Of course we are,” Aria said with a smile, grabbing her clutch. “Thank you for offering.”

Halle only rolled her eyes, “You’re welcome.”

Aria pinched her cheek sweetly, “Best little sister a girl could ask for—you don’t ask me for anything.”

Halle laughed and led the way out of the suite, down to the elevators and to the car. John Hopkins put her in a Lincoln MKX, which was significantly bigger than her car in San Antonio, but useful for carrying soon to be med school students, John Hopkins students and the like around the city. She’d become one of very few minority recruiters for John Hopkins and she was good at her work. The med school students would be cramming for tests and things at the moment, so she had the night off to party the way she wanted. She wouldn’t be manning the booth until after her presentation so it was a rare night in the middle of the conference that she could go and have fun. 

When they arrive, she has the car valeted and the bouncer let’s them in without question. Between Aria’s teasing and Michele scoping the club, they head straight for the bar to be greeted not only by the bartender, but a small party of men who gravitate towards them and start talking to them in the familiar tones of black interactions. 

_ Let me buy you a drink… _

_ Let me take you out to dinner sometime… _

“I don’t live in Phoenix,” Halle said with a smile. “And as I said, I’m taken.”

“Oh, baby I can fly to wherever you going and what your man don’t know won’t hurt him.”

She tilted her head, lifting her cape cod to her lips, “I’m the faithful type. Try again with someone else.”

It doesn’t take long for Michele and Aria to successfully get charmed on to the dance floor as Halle is wearing her “I’m taken” sign loud and proud through the whole conversation. When they leave her alone at the bar, talking with the bartender, it’s as if whatever had been protecting her from being swarmed had vanished and men descended with the sort of low voices and measure-tape eyes that made her stomach turn and memories of a night she’d thought she’d moved past. 

_ You looking good girl… _

_ You know I live a magnum lifestyle… _

After the frenzy seemed to die down, the bartender made her another drink and gave her a smile.

“On the house.”

She laughed, “Was it that bad?”

He winced, “If I was into women and I was your boyfriend, I wouldn’t let you out of my sight… Seeing that…I’m tempted to hide you behind the bar for your safety.”

She grinned, “I can take care of myself. Tougher than I look.”

“I bet.”

She looked down and he watched the guy coming closer to the bar. A white guy this time, clean shave, dark hair, dark eyes, in jeans, a button down… his type walking and dragging his eyes over the woman’s form. He tried to subtly shake his head, but only earned a feral grin for his efforts as the man stopped just behind her and leaned forward just enough to speak over her shoulder.

Up close… he was a lot hotter than he thought… but the words that came from his lips…

Questionable… definitely questionable.

“I don’t mean no disresp-easy…” a voice, decidedly British started. “But you got a fat arse and I’d really like to take you back to my place and fuck you doggystyle a bit.”

The bar tender’s jaw dropped, “I can call security.”

She shook her head, “I’ve got it.”

Halle closed her eyes and set her glass down before dialing down the string of extremely long words she’d planned to cut the man behind her to ribbons with before turning her head slowly with and exasperated sigh. How she was even managing to be angry at this point was beyond her, but she was.

TC watched her. She was tense and the quality of the sigh told him that she’d been there, alone at the bar, just long enough to hear every fucked up pick up line imaginable, but there was something else bothering her. Her mouth is set in a firm line before she opens her mouth to speak and her eyes land on him. Whatever she had to say fizzled out as her eyes widened and her body seemed to relax. He grinned at her.

“If you’re free.”

She smiled at him, chuckled even and shook her head as he slid on to the barstool beside her.

“You’re terrible.”

“Made you laugh,” he said not looking at all apologetic. The bartender looked between the two of them.

“You… know him?”

“This is the boyfriend,” Halle said, taking another sip of her drink. “He is a fool.”

The man nodded and looked at him, “Thank God, because I was really scared for a second.”

“Your type, straight and a jackass too much?” TC asked with a wink.

He flushed and turned to get someone else’s order. 

Halle nudged him, “Stop teasing my friend. He’s been here through several attempts on my body, thank you.”

“Should I thank him with my body?”

The bartender fumbled a glass filled with ice, his neck burning as Halle shoved him again.

“Quit it,” she said. 

“It could be a thing,” he said. 

“Stop,” she said. 

“You can’t tell me you’ve never wanted to watch a yaoi scene before.”

“I have, on several occasions, but you’re distracting the poor guy and he’s been very nice to me. Stop ruining his tips.”

“I’m trying to  _ thank _ him.”

She shook her head before TC ordered a beer with a grin and Halle snatched the bottle from his hands before he could even get it to his lips, the bartender’s eyes wide at the devilish look on TC’s face.

“That’s mine—”

“He’ll have it in a glass.”

He did so and Halle could only shake her head at the sly licks he gave to the edge of the glass, his eyes meeting the bartender’s who watched, mouth open, flushed, and completely out of it.

“You just don’t know when to stop.”

“Nope,” TC said as the bartender moved to the other side. “Bartender’s hot.”

“His name is Percival.”

TC grinned, “Gwaine… would love this.”

He fished out his phone and took a picture of the tall, dark blonde man behind the bar with the name in the message to Gwaine with a grin.

_ Take that home, god damn it because I can’t. _

He showed the message to Halle, “Can I?”

“Why do I humor you?”

“Is that a yes?”

She only rolled her eyes, “If you want.”

He grinned at her as she felt a presence along her right side, too close for comfort.

“Hey sweet thang, I’m Daniel.”

She looked the bartender who looked at TC who grinned and was about to say something before Halle placed a hand on his thigh and gave it a squeeze.

_ I’ve got it. _

TC shut his mouth and turned to look at the bartender, “I’m sorry in advance.”

He frowned at TC with a glance in Halle’s direction.

“Halle,” she said. “Nice to meet you.”

“Pretty, don’t tell me your last name is Berry too. She’s already too much for the world.”

“That’s a Norse ass name, Halle,” TC said.

Halle didn’t even look back at TC who seemed to be taking a drink from his beer. 

“No it isn’t.”

“Just wanna say, I’ve been peeping you across the way, you know my boys said you been at the bar by yourself all night, couldn’t help thinking a pretty thing like you shouldn’t be alone in a dress that fly…”

“Just wanted to let you know,” TC said nodding his head, talking to the bartender who was doing his best not to laugh. “Your ass look fat in that dress—saw it from across the room.”

“I’m flattered, but I’m taken.”

“Your man ain’t my concern if he fool enough not to be out here with you—he shouldn’t be any of yours either.”

“You got a boyfriend?” TC asked. “Where he at? I don’t see him, must not exist.”

Halle smiled, swallowing the peel of laughter she wanted to let loose as the bartender snickered. TC was a fool, but she appreciated the levity in a situation that  made her she really wanted to punch something. … Or someone in this case.

“…but is he tall? Is he hefty? Is he getting you a drink? Is he coming back? Where your boyfriend?”

“Hey, can I get this lovely lady another drink on me?”

“I’ve hit my limit actually,” Halle said with a smile. “I think four cocktails is enough.”

TC tilted his head, four huh? A glance to the bartender told him that it had been more than four, which made him even more worried than before. Halle wasn’t really drinker from what he could tell of her. Three meant she was stressed, four meant she was a little more stressed than usual and maybe just needed to blow off some steam… but more than that while fighting off legions of men trying to hit on her at the same time was telling. It seemed to be asking for trouble, what kind of trouble he wasn’t sure, but it didn’t sit well with him. 

“I respect a woman in control of herself,” he said. “What you do for a living?”

Halle isn’t sure why she’s answering, maybe to be polite, maybe just to hear TC’s commentary, she isn’t sure.…. She bet it has something to do with the alcohol. There was a reason she never drank… it made her patience extend to a point before breaking and the very Martin attitude came out to destroy people.

“So let me ask you what your interests are, who you be with?”

“I’m an entrepreneur, in town for the medical conference too. Looking to score sometime with some big rolling venture capitalists looking for the next big thing.”

“I hustle all day,” TC said and by now the bartender has ducked behind the bar to laugh. “I’m even hustling right now… like a swan, it don’t look like I’m doing much but beneath the surface there’s lot going on.”

The guy speaking to her looks a little agitated that she won’t leave the bar to go somewhere a little quieter, though TC isn’t loud, he’s obviously parodying the man and it’s hilarious. Halle isn’t sure when it happens, but it does, inevitably as it always does: she gets angry and the guy just can’t seem to take a hint that she’s not interested in being the good woman to put him in connection with anyone he won’t go talk to himself. Even TC’s levity didn’t seem to be able to stop the inevitable end of this conversation: brutal Martin-grade honesty.

If he’d had even a little bit of ambition, maybe she’d consider it, dropping some information about how to navigate a medical conference. She didn’t believe in letting people who were really trying and had something of interest to offer go in blind, but this Daniel had provend himself to not be one of those. Her stomach churned and she thoughtinks of Mark, of how this guy had the same sort of air about him. A user, a slimy leech latching on to whatever he could, crawling through muck and doing whatever it took to drag her down too in the hopes to take her place..

“Here’s a bit of advice,” she said kindly. “Don’t go to anyone and talk about what they can do for you.”

He frowned.

“You get someone’s attention by telling them what you can do for them.”

“Uh huh? About to drop some knowledge on me?”

She smiled, “I could, but it’s not my job to teach a grown man anything.”

The bartender ad TC share a look because her tone has changed and even if TC doesn’t know why exactly, she’s angry, the cold simmering anger that scorched and destroyed because there was just too much pain inside not to… 

She was thinking about Mark, he realized and wondered if maybe this was hitting a little too close to home.

Damn, he should have intervened earlier, he’d have to correct his Black Women 501 notes include this scenario…not that he was hoping to need those notes since he had Halle 101 through 401.

_ Oh god, _ his stomach churned. When had thought. of that?

He laughed, “What’s that supposed to mean?”

She pinned him with a glare before lifting her glassstanding, “That I’ve wasted enough of my time talking to you.”

“Let me not waste anymore of your time,” he said with a shake of his head. “Uppity bitch, think she too good to talk to a brother—”

“You can’t get mad at me because you made assumptions,” she said, crossing her legs and turning to regard him fully. 

Her back straight, her eyes dark and angry, “You thought I was easy, because I look like this. That I’d be impressed by you wanting to buy me a drink and you being an “entrepreneur”. Then, you thought I was even easier because I talk smart. Thought you’d use me, and I’d let you, because you’re a brother and that’s just a sister’s job.”

“Use you?” He asked with a scoff. “For a good time, but I can see that you’ve got way too much attitude to deal with—not surprised your fake ass boyfriend ain’t here.”

She smiled a cold one, “The only thing fake around here is your Rolex.”

He grit his teeth as she smirked, “Oh… you thought I wouldn’t know?”

She held up her wrist and taped the face of it, his eyes widened, because it was in fact a Rolex watch, a very discreet one, “I like my jewelry like I like my men: real and worth something.” 

“I ain’t got to take this from you,” he said. “There a plenty of honies here tonight.”

“Good, go find one. You saved yourself the price of a top shelf cocktail. Should be enough to get you back to whatever hole you crawled out of.”

His hand goes up and before Halle can move, TC has the man’s wrist in hand, twisted up behind his back, pulling painfully at his shoulder. 

“TC,” Halle blinked. When had he gotten up? She hadn’t realized it and perhaps TC was far faster than she first thought. He had been trained to kill, she wasn’t really surprised.“Let him go.”

The man laughed, “I see. Letting the white boy hit, so us brothers ain’t good enough for you? Fucking traitor, I was only talking to you ‘cause you got a fat ass anyway.”

Against his inclinations, TC let the man go. The man straightened his jacket and walked off and she shook her head, sliding her empty glass across the bar.

“Mood killer,” she said in explanation and turned to find Michele and Aria who had been making their way back through the crowd at the sight of struggle at the bar.

“Halle,” TC said but she was already making her way through the crowd towards the bathroom with Michele and Aria following right after.

The bathroom is empty for a change and Halle finds that her hands are shaking as she let out a breath and leaned against the wall.

“You alright?” Aria asked looking at her. It was the first time that she’d seen Halle so out of sorts, shaking… drinking more than four cocktails… content to stay at the bar rather than join them on the dance floor like she usually would. 

She nodded slowly, “Just… a little more high strung than usual… my fuse has gotten short.”

Michele snorted, “About damn time.”

*

TC stands outside the bathroom, ignoring the way people look at him like he’s a total creeper until Halle, Michele, and Aria emerge. He catches Halle’s wrist, tugging her back to kiss her cheek.

“Ditch your car and come with me?” He asked.

She swallowed and nodded. It wasn’t as if she was in a good state to drive.  He let her go to give the valet ticket to Michele who promised that she’d drive it back to the hotel in one piece. 

“After a spin around the block,” she said and Halle laughed.

Across the room, they couldn’t see TC’s face, but they told her to go on and get kidnapped by her man and they’d see her tomorrow. They’d get a chance to meet him eventually. TC held the car door open for her as she walked towards the car. 

“Gwaine?” She asked.

“Obviously, San Antonio tried to put me in a car my legs wouldn’t fit in.”

She smiled and got in looking around. She’d never been inside a Tesla, but had heard great things about them. He climbed in and it was odd seeing him drive a car really… Really odd, but sexy in an odd way. He drove the car the same way he drove a bike: confident, attentive, and capable. They park in an attached garage. He opened the door for her and took her by the hand, keeping her a full step behind him as they reached the door. He opened it, letting her proceed him to where they could hear music. 

The woman at the front desk smiled kindly at them.

“Welcome to Pandora,” she said. “Will you be here for dancing or other?”

“Both,” he said with a grin. 

“Dom?” She asked looking between them, holding up a bracelet between the two of them.

No assumptions, he remembered why he liked Pandora. He held out his wrist for her to fasten it, a black band. She gave him a choice of lengths of colored leather. He grinned and picked up a length of dark purple and threaded it around Halle’s wrist with a smile, before taking her hand.

“Keys are with the bartender, enjoy!”

“Follow,” he said softly. She bit her lip, following him beyond the door towards the sound of club music. Fast paced and sensual floating through the air. He guided her on to the floor and pulled her up against him, her back to his chest. 

“ _ I didn’t get to see you dance, _ ” he whispered, breathing a hot line up the side of her neck. “Dance for me.”

It feels automatic, her mind goes quiet and her body moves, rolling her hips, swaying, pressing back against him, her eyes closed as he hissed at the push of her ass against him.

“Good,” he praised. “Very good.”

It doesn’t take long, his hands roaming over her hips, under the edge of her dress when she whimpers and shakes her head. He pulls his hand back to the curve of her waist and tells her to walk towards the bar, his hands on her hips, steering her to where he wants her to go. 

“Hi, any rooms open?”

He stroked the curve of Halle’s hip with a thumb as the bartender shows him the rooms that are open. He chooses the simplest one. It looks more like a bedroom than a dungeon, takes the keys and guides her down the hall towards the room. She’s shaking when he opened the door, hands at her sides and still a few feet away from the door, just far enough in for him to press his back to the door and pull her close.

“Traffic lights, good for you?” He asked, tugging her dress over the swell of her ass and groaning at the lace body suit beneath it. It’s hi-cut and cheeky, one of his favorites.

She nodded, shaking in his arms as his fingers dug into the muscles at the small of her back.

“What do you need?” he asked gently.

She shook her head, “Not to think…”

He slides a hand over the column of her throat and tilts her head back to look at her.

“You’re going to tell me what happened after I’m done with you, understand?”

Her eyes go soft, shamed, submissive as she nodded and they fluttered close.

“I’m going to ruin you tonight, Halle,” he said. “Make you beg for things you didn’t know you wanted. Make you cry out for me, hurt for me, make you into the dirty slut I know you are.”

“ _ I trust you, _ ” she said softly, small and he smiled, kissing her cheek.

“You trust me to take care of you?”

She nodded. 

“Good,” he said. “I trust you to be good for me.”

She shuddered and he said, “Strip.”

He watched her, not moving, as she reached for the clasp at the nape of her neck and let the dress crumble to the ground. Her hands undoing the hooks along her spine and peeling the thin lace of so the body suit fell to the ground.

“Leave your shoes on,” he said with a grin, placing his hands on her hips again and groaning at the skin to skin contact. “Haven’t felt the need to ruin anyone in a while—walk.”

She did so walking towards the leather covered bed and stopping when he asked.

“Don’t move.”

She trembled as he moved away from her, and crossed the room to where everything else was. She shook, not in fear, but anticipation and maybe a little wary. She felt the nervous prick of panic beneath her skin. 

He was so far away… so very far… maybe never coming back… Maybe preparing to blindside her again,  string her up--

“Anything you don’t want?” He asked at a distance.

She swallowed, “Not… above my head.”

He turned then to look at her, the way she was so still and nodded. He hadn’t planned on any real restraints anyway because she was so tightly wound. He went for a length of silk to wrap around her wrists, a vibrator, and a blindfold, before sliding out of his shoes, shirt and belt and crossing the room.

“Hands back,” he said and waited for her to comply before wrapping the silk around her wrists and closing her hands over either end and the length between her wrists. “Don’t let go, understand? If you do, the scene ends.”

She nodded swallowing, “Yes, Sir.”

“Color.”

“Green, Sir,” she said, closing her eyes and sinking into it.

“Good.”

He kissed the nape of her neck, right where her spinal cord began and stroked his hands down either side of her arms, listening to her breathing as he put the blindfold and vibrator in his other pocket.

“Ready?” He asked with a grin, meeting her eyes in the mirror in the headboard. 

“I trust you,” she repeated with a nod.

“Good. Bend over,” he said. “Spread your legs for me.”

She did so, steadying herself on her heels, her cheek against the leather of the bed shaking as he passed his hands over her skin, gentle, careful, measured. Needy whimpers coming from her as she fidgeted under the slow torture of his words and the barely there caresses that made her whimper.

“I’m going to torture you… and maybe if you’re good, I’ll let you come. But you have to be good, can you do that?”

“Yes sir.”

“Can you be a good slut for me?”

“Y-yes, Sir.”

She yelped at the sting of his hand over her ass, “One, Sir.”

He grinned, “Good slut.”

He hit her again, a little harder, relishing the way she yelped and counted, but he didn’t have a number in mind. He hadn’t even expected her to count… He just wanted to get her to where she needed to go.

“The week we get back you’re going to be the perfect sex slave for me. I’m going to pull you into the closet all throughout shift and make you get on your knees and beg me to do things to you.”

She moaned, low and broken as his fingertips grazed the back of her knee, his breath a burning spot at the small of her back. She cried out when he finally pressed his full palm between her shoulder blades, shaking and whimpering.

“P-Please sir, please…”

He smiled at her wiggling form, tonight would be fun if he got that sort of reaction from just touching her. When he got his fingers fully lubed and in her, thrusting, curling in her ruthlessly, he grinned a different sort of adrenaline in his veins at the way she screamed and twisted into and away from every hard fall of his hand on her ass. 

“Such a freak,” he said, landing another hard smack on her ass. “Going to come just from this?”

“For you, Sir…” she said softly, eyes squeezed tight, panting. “For you.”

“I’d like that,” he said grinning. “I’ll tell you when.”

And then he smacked her, hard, impressed that she could still stand and not squirm too much as he landed hard smack after hard smack on her ass. Her muscles tensed, staving off the orgasm that was pushing against her control. She’d been trained well. 

_ By who _ , he wondered but shook his head. It wasn’t important. They weren’t here now giving her what she needed to settle in her skin again. They weren’t here listen to the way she cried out, counting, hot tracks down her cheeks, breathless against the stinging in the backside. She was going to have a hard time sitting down tomorrow more than likely. 

“Come.”

Her body jerked and her breathing caught, a low, pained moan gushing out of her. 

Fuck, he thought. He hadn’t encountered a sub that reacted that way. The rush of power and control almost made him come in his jeans, but he wouldn’t be coming anywhere that wasn’t on her or in her. 

“So obedient,” he whispered gently. “You’re not going to be able to walk out of here when I’m done. I’m going to have to carry you and everyone is going to know what a kinky, dirty slut you are.”

“ _ For you, _ ” she gasped, panting around the edge of her orgasm. “ _ For you. _ ”

He thought he’d be alright, thought that the next few things he’d planned on doing to her wouldn’t affect him the way it did… but she was just so  _ wet _ so much so that it was sliding down her thighs making it easy to slide a finger into her ass despite the tightness. 

She jerked as he did so.

“One day,” he said. “Someday soon… I’m going to fuck your ass. Turn your ass into my cum receptacle for a day and plug you up.”

She moaned, feeling the slide of his finger inside her.

“But I won’t let you come until we’re alone and you can show me exactly how you like to be touched… Maybe I’ll get you a vibrator to fuck yourself with while you beg me to fuck you.”

“P-Please sir… please…”

“All night,” he promised. “My own personal porn show.”

She came again when he slid the vibrator into her ass roughly and turned it on high as he rolled on a condom and slid into her with a slick glide. He didn’t give her a second to come down or catch her breath before thrusting in earnest, holding her hips still and plowing into her until she couldn’t scream any longer and just went quiet, her breathing slow and meditative. He grinned, pressing a kiss to the nape of her neck and sliding her up to lay fully on the bed. He tugged off her shoes and set them aside before grabbing his shirt to wrap her in and a bottle of water before crawling up to pull her into his arms, cuddling her close as she remained out of touch with reality. 

It took a while for her to come back down, groggy and looking up at him with wonder.

“Hello,” he said with a smile. “Drink.”

He pressed a straw between her lips, let her drink her fill and nuzzled her gently. 

“You were so good for me,” he said softly.  “How do you feel?”

“I… wasn’t scared,” she said almost in wonder and TC licked his lips. 

“Good,” he said with a nod. “I don’t ever want to scare you.”

She sniffed, closing her eyes before her eyes burned with emotion instead of blinding pain and pressing her face into his chest as he pulled her closer. 

“I’ve got you, we’ll stay for a bit longer and then we’ll get some food.”

She nodded, sinking into his arms with a deep exhale. He has her drink a little more water before getting her cleaned up and back into her clothing. He carries her in his arms, dozing off against him as he walks down the hall, her shoes and clutch in her lap and grins as he returns the keys to the bartender, pays for the time, and carried on out the door. The woman doesn’t ask for them to return the bracelets but gives them a gift bag since its Halle’s first time at Pandora. 

He puts her in the car, stops for food, and carries her up to her room with his backpack on his back. The room is beautiful. It has the sort of view that makes him wonder what school she graduated from and how much did they love her. 

TC ran a warm bath for them to bathe in before cuddling up together on the low couch and eating. 

“Better?” TC asked.

She nodded as he pressed a kiss to her forehead, “You ready to tell me what happened?... Beside every man within a mile radius hitting on you at the bar?”

“I… ran into Mark.”

TC stiffened, “He’s here?”

She nodded, “Looking for a job…”

TC squeezed her tight, “Did he speak to you?”

She shook her head, he’d been about to, she knew that, but Thomas had taken her attention, then TC and he hadn’t had a chance.

“Looks like I’ll have to thank Roth.” She smiled. “And ask for Mark’s last name.”

She opened her mouth and he placed a finger against her lips, looking at her, “I’ve got it, doesn’t cover this, Halle. You trust me to take care of you as your Sir? I’m asking you to trust me as your boyfriend too.”

Halle swallowed thickly, her heart racing. Her Sir? Did he even realize what he was saying? Did she—

“Worth,” she heard herself say, shocked that it came so easily. “Mark Worth.”

He smiled slow and easy and kissed the bridge of her nose. “Good girl.”

It isn’t long before they settle into her bed and fall asleep, not to wake up until eleven the next day. TC, being hard and waking from a dream too sensual to deny, crowds her into the expansive bathroom to fuck her against the wall with slow, languid thrusts, too deep to keep focused. Her hair gets soaked, but she can’t find it in herself to care, crying out as he drove her higher and out of her mind. 

He grins as she dries her hair in her silky robe, pouting in the mirror as he rubs his hair with a towel.

“No fair.”

He grinned at her, kissed her shoulder and began to brush his teeth with a devilish grin. 

“I’m going to be late,” she said running her hands covered in some sort of hair product through her hair. 

It’s longer than he initially thought, but no less gorgeous. Seeing it completely out of any confines makes his hands twitch in that possessive way. But watching her slide into her underwear and into another one of those sinfully sexy business dresses plays hell on his self-control. She finishes the look with a delicate chain around her wrist, oxfords, and a curling iron in her hand.

He’s dressed, heading out and narrowly avoiding being swatted as she rushes to get her hair corralled.

Michele and Aria come knocking not too long after he’s escaped to return the keys to the Lincoln and ask if she’s ready for her presentation.

“Not yet,” she said from the bathroom, twisting her hair up and pinning it with quick hands, watching the time on her phone and sliding the clip into place before curling the ends of her hair, effectively giving herself an asymmetrical hairstyle and grinning. 

“Now I’m ready.” She said grabbing her tote and strutting out of the bathroom. Michele shook her head.

“How does anyone have any funding with you around?”

She shrugged, “Dunno.”

*

It takes two conversations with people he’s met at other conferences to find Mark Worth. He takes a deep breath, choosing to hide the rage simmering in his blood as he moves towards the man and introduces himself. 

The man recognizes him from several conferences and agrees to step into a corridor with him. He’s proud of himself that he doesn’t even touch the guy but sets his glare hard and his voice steely to warn him.

“If you see Halle’s name on a conference roster, you’d better not show your face.”

His jaw dropped, “You—”

“I,” he said. “Will make your life far more difficult than it is right now.”

“What does that mean?”

“There’s no one at this conference that will hire you for underhanded practices,” TC said. “I made sure of that. And every conference you go to from now on, it’ll hang over your head and it will only get worse if you come anywhere near her again. Understand?”

He waits for the man to nod shakily, probably seeing the rage he’s barely holding back before TC hears Halle’s name being called and turned to head back into the room where she’s presenting.

He grins at her hair, because it’s beautiful, a new style he’s never seen and instantly wants to make fall apart. She struts on to stage, shakes hands with woman who introduced her and takes the clicker in her hand.

“ _ At least my microphone works this time, _ ” she said with a smile before starting her presentation. 

It’s on a program that he guesses had been presented at a prior conference, this is just an update, specifically for a company named Credne Technologies. It’s a part of their Move Beyond the Horizon Program, a means of helping people who have been through traumatic experiences get their feet back on the ground and move on. He can hear the passion and knowledge, years of research, and careful implementation. He’d heard of art therapy for veterans struggling with PTSD, but not in the way she talked about it as a means of catharsis and monitoring. 

Then he hears that she has a testing ground for her theories and recognizes the profiles she presents, the names that she’s chosen to represent her test groups are telling, like an inside joke.

She’s talking about San Antonio Memorial and it all clicks into place. 

_ Not suspicious my ass… _ he thought shaking his head. He’d get her for this, but as she presents her research, he can’t help but feel something in him get cold. He’s sure that he’s in her panels and knowing that… and not knowing what parts of her research is entwined with their relationship makes his stomach churn. Did she actually trust him? Did she care at all or was she just dating him, using him to help her research because he just didn’t fall in line with everyone else?

How much of their relationship was real? When the presentation ends, he’s barely smiling so when she comes up to him with that smile he looks at her for just a moment.

“TC?” she asked softly. “What’s wrong? You okay?”

The smile comes back as he pushes those thoughts away. Halle wasn’t like any other woman he’d ever dated. Where was his trust in her? The doubt quiets to a niggling just to the left of his lungs and he ignores it. There’s too much doubt about so many other things. He can’t afford to doubt this too. He can’t afford for this to crumble… he’s already destroyed so much. 

“Not suspicious my ass.”

She laughed. TC kissed her cheek before letting her return to her booth and going to wander the conference far away from the John Hopkins table. He was running out of real estate of course, but it’s enough to last the rest of the day and the time before his turn to get up on stage. Halle is there standing beside Iris as he recites the words Scott wrote with clarity and all the seriousness that Scott would give it. 

It’s a dry, very hospital speech, not something anyone would expect of the guy who more often than not showed up in fatigues, pulling random items from the audience and detailing at least five way it could be used to save someone’s life. 

The difference becomes the central focus of the Q&A afterwards. They ask him specifically how he feels about San Antonio memorial, what they needed, where he saw them going and he runs out of time before he can answer all of their questions, wincing because he knows that he’s probably busted from the look on Halle’s face.

“Not at all a Dr. T.C. Callahan speech,” Halle said, arms crossed and regarding him. 

“Well… I didn’t write it.”

“Obviously,” she said and tilted her head towards Iris who looked between them in confusion. “Iris just showed me the paperclip, pen, and knife speech… Impressive.”

He nodded and winced as she turned his badge around to see the John Hopkins side, “Surprise?”

“Uh huh…”She smiled and turned her Credne Technologies badge around to show her John Hopkins badge and his eyebrows go up. “You’re the sexy crazy doctor Michele and Aria told me about.”

“Question!” Iris cuts in, raising her hand. “You two know each other?”

“Iris,” TC said with a grin, pulling Halle towards him. “This is my girlfriend, Halle.”

Her eyes widened, “No way.”

“Way.”

“No way.”

“Way,” Halle said. “We should be careful, don’t want to turn out like Rice.”

Iris beamed at them, “This is fantastic!”

Somehow, TC gets through the seemingly endless questions about San Antonio Memorial, about other projects he’s done, without blowing a gasket or doing something completely unprofessional… after all, he has to think about Halle’s reputation. She’s kind enough to come see him off at the airport, kiss him goodbye and wave.

The text she receives all of an hour later tells her that the next time they see one another he wanted her in a blue set and plans to put her on her knees. It’s enough to make her get through the rest of the conference with no problems, the promise of the text making her nervous and excited all at once. 

When TC sees her strolling in on Monday evening he only grins at her from across the room.

“You’re back!” he cheered. “Best day ever!”

Halle shook her head, “I am inclined to agree.”

TC hums happily, pulling her up against him to kiss her forehead and temple before she goes to get changed for shift. 

“TC,” Jordan called and immediately there’s something that feels off. He turned to offer her a smile.

“Hello Jordan, what can I do for you?”

She opened her mouth to speak, but all at once Ragosa and Scott were there demanding that he debrief them on how the conference went. 

“I read it just like you wrote it,” TC said with a shrug and Jordan look somewhere in between sick and annoyed. “Not sure what else you want me to say.”

“Well,” Ragosa started. “Good… At least there’s one less thing to worry about.”

His eyes drifted over TC and frowned, seeing that the man was dressed regulation doctor wear from head to toe, he was even wearing a lab coat.

“Glad to see you toeing the line for a change,” Ragosa said. “Now if you could keep it up until the end of the audit--that would be wonderful.”

“I’ll… see what I can do,” he said grabbing his clipboard and turning to get to work. 

There’s an odd tension throughout the hospital, a few faces that he hadn’t recognized and assumed were auditors wandering around, observing people until someone called his name.

“Dr. Callahan,” a woman he turned to find the source of voice and paused typing his text to Halle. 

The woman approached  him wearing a suit and taking him in fully, a sort of interest that he couldn’t really place.

“Which one?” He asked. 

“TC Callahan,” she said humorously.

“That would be me, Ms…”

“Roanoa,” she said, shaking his hand. “It’s nice to finally meet you.”

He winced, “Is this an  _ I’ve heard a lot about you _ conversation? Those always seem to end badly for me.”

“I’ve read your work, very impressive.”

He nodded, “I see.”

“I’d like to talk to you about a project, when you have the time,” she said offering him a card. “One that may be right up your alley.”

TC took the card and nodded, “I’ll consider it, Ms. Roanoa. Is it safe to say that you aren’t here for the audit then?”

“No,” she said. “But then I wouldn’t be a very good auditor if I told you what I was doing now, would I?”

He grinned as she bid him goodbye and TC turned to finish texting Halle to meet him in their closet in about twenty minutes. He shoved the card in his wallet, made a stop off at the kitchen to grab lunch and headed to the closet to find her already there, on her phone, eating with the sort of tension in her shoulder that meant someone had been on her nerves all shift.

“Jordan?” He asked.

“And the CNO,” she said setting her phone aside and coming closer to him. He grinned and set his lunch aside before grabbing her and crowding her against the cot set up near the back of the room.

“Let’s see it,” he said with a grin, enjoying the way her eyes went soft as she reached for the hem of her shirt and tugged it over her head. He let out a low hiss because holy God, she had way too much sexy underwear.

Thin vibrant blue lace cups  and a thin strip of lace connecting the bra to the underwear like an afterthought. A high, cut thong body suit that he was more than sure was from an actual lingerie shop and meant only for show.

“Good girl.”


	17. Get Hitched And Make A Career Out Of Robbing Banks.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Heart-wrenchingly, inexplicably....

“Do you need a blood sample as well?” She asked the security officer as she scanned both hands. “Hair follicles? Skin cells perhaps?”

She was only half serious considering they needed a copy of her driver’s license, pictures, and all other manner of questions to add to their security database. The woman , when realizing who she was, seemed to be less interested in laughing or generally being cordial, but Halle chocked it up night shift blues.

The woman gave her a tight smile, “No. Your fingerprints will do.”

Halle isn’t sure what about the smile makes her a little irritated, but it does. Her tone is pleasant enough, but there’s a disapproval and almost  _ disgust _ in her blue eyes and at the corners of her thin lips. The woman hands over a set of keys and tells her that she’s been put on the approved list to have free entry into TC’s apartment.

“Do know that your keys can be de-activated at any time.”

An eyebrow drifts up and a part of her is reaching for the Vaseline in her bag… It had to be the Houston Sunnyside and the Martin part of her, but she only smiled. The woman making her pale face neutral as she regarded her primly. She could almost hear the  _ he’ll get tired of you and move on to a real person _ behind her glare. It probably wasn’t conscious, sure the woman may just be mad because she’d never caught TC or Gwaine’s eyes no matter how red her lips were. Maybe TC had actually slept with her at some point and she wasn’t happy that it was over. None of that mattered though… since she had a key, she was a guest, and the woman was working the desk, probably making a fraction of what she made at any given hour. 

“I’m sure I won’t have to worry about that.”

When the woman’s look goes sour, Halle turns and struts her way to the elevator to ride the floors up to TC’s floor, feeling a bit like a Miss B song. Not Brooke Valentine because there was nothing girlish about the way Halle fought--vaseline or not.

TC is making Anytime Pasta, the creamy edition, when she opens the front door with her new keys and walks in. 

“You know normally, boyfriends give girlfriends keys directly…”

He looked up from the stove as she came around the corner looking as delectable as ever in just a bodysuit and jeans. It’s as if she came from his teenage fantasies into his present and he isn’t sure what he should be feeling about it. 

“Not when they live in the Fort Knox of Condominiums,” he said with a grin. “The only thing I can give you directly is the code to my door.”

She took a seat at the bar watching him. While not antsy, he certainly wasn’t relaxed.

“You… didn’t have to give them to me if you didn’t want to.”

“I wouldn’t have if I didn’t.”

The words are heavy in the air, but weightless, like a kiss on her forehead and arms around her. It’s warmth and security. It’s stable ground and knowing even as he looks incredibly nervous moving around in the kitchen.

“You… don’t even know where I live yet.”

TC grinned, not missing the yet, “In my experience, and several levels of “Dating Black Women” 101 through 503, and “Dating” 101 through 503, if you trusted me, you’d tell me.”

He looked at her with a grin, “Besides… you said yet.”

Right… she had said yet. Honestly, she isn’t sure what she’s waiting on. She trusted him completely, was pretty sure that he wouldn’t have even been able to get her into his condo if she didn’t let alone anything else they’ve done… Hell she’d been known not to give out her cell phone number if she didn’t trust someone. So what is it?

“I do,” she said earning his attention again so their eyes could meet. “Trust you that is.”

TC grinned and nodded, “White or red?’

She snorted, “White.”

*

It’s all just noise sometimes, when incident like this occur. But mostly, it’s instinct, switching hesitance and fear for knowledge ingrained so deep in the psyche that she lives and breathes it. 

She knows from the sound of the noise who is talking to her and who has gone there with her. There’s Topher and Drew for sure, Jayden and a few others and there’s TC’s voice as she rushes past the room he’s working in to get the patient on her gurney into the OR where there’s a team waiting for him. 

When the noise is quiet and the sounds turn back into words, it’s almost five in the morning and she realizes that she hadn’t stopped to eat, to think or do much of anything but move in time with the emergency room. 

She sinks down to the floor and let’s out a breath.

“Hey there,” TC greeted coming into the storage room as she sat on the floor breathing deeply, tugging her scrub cap off.

“Hey.”

He sat down beside her and slung an arm around her shoulder, “Wild night?”

She snorted, “As if you can talk.”

TC nodded, leaning to kiss her forehead gently, “You alright?”

“Yeah, you?”

“Yeah.”

They don’t say anything else, leaned together, taking in each other’s company when a knock sounded on the door. They looked up to see Kenny. 

“Hey, rally up in five.”

“Got it,” they said and moved to stand, before heading out the door after him towards the larger meeting room, more commonly known as the weight room, where Scott was addressing the entire team. Halle leaned back against him, letting Scott’s voice turn into a different kind of noise until her hand goes up to ask why they hadn’t switched from tablets to something a little more suited for the usual pace of the night shift yet. 

“What?”

“Well, you’re talking about how many the night shift have broken, usually during nights like these… why haven’t we gotten something a little more compact?”

“It’s a budgeting concern,” Ragosa answered. “We’ll just have to be more careful.”

Halle decides to hold the comment she wants to say at that, but as if she was reading her mind, Jayden doesn’t.

“Shouldn’t we be focusing more on the  _ patients _ ?” Jayden asked. “Honestly, in the middle of a flood of patients, the last thing on my mind is holding on to that tablet.”

“Well isn’t that because you leave it at the nurse’s station?” Kenny asked. 

“Yes,” she said. “Cause I’d rather not  _ drop _ it and have to listen to this again.”

There’s a low whistle around as Ragosa lets out a breath, “It’s faster.”

“Perhaps you should get cases for them then,” a nurse suggested. “I just work the counter most of the time, but if you want people to use them perhaps you should protect them.”

“Or is that not in the budget either?”

Someone snickered and Ragosa glared at the group. Landry did her best to remain neutral even as she was sure she was going to laugh. 

“It works just fine for day shift,” Ragosa said. “We can make it work for night shift too. There’s no sense in having two systems.”

“Point taken,” Landry said. “But making that feasible for two very different kinds of shifts is something else.”

Halle shrugged, not really interested in the conversation when TC leaned to kiss her cheek. 

“Got plans after?”

“Not at the moment.”

“Let’s go out for breakfast,” he said. “I promise not to fall asleep in my eggs.”

Halle grinned, “I’ll hold you to that, but if you do I’ll rescue you.”

TC nodded, “Deal.”

In the end, there’s really nothing to be done about the tablets. Ragosa focused primarily on the numbers and the latest study said that hospitals are more efficient when they use the latest technology. In theory, less paperwork would mean more time with patients… but given the kind of paperwork the night shift contended with and the organization of the entire system, the tablets were more or less not really doing much of anything for the night shift ER who barely had time to listen to the EMT bringing people in, let alone trying to get that information properly onto the crappy tablets that froze, lost power, broke, etc. 

Halle doesn’t think about it, waiting for TC at the front doors to finish up whatever he’s got to do before coming to wrap an arm around her waist and heading out the door. Halle drove them to a breakfast place she knew well enough, they ate, they talked, and she drove him back to his bike before heading home with not one thought as to why tablets and the night shift probably wouldn’t work out while they were short staffed and overloaded.

The conversation gets revisited a few weeks later when Jordan drops a tablet and it shatters, blinking out and the screen sprouts an ugly, spider-web across the screen. She stared at it for a good minute, enough time for one of the night shift nurses to give her a pointed look and walk off. 

“Jordan,” Scott started looking at the tablet on the ground. “What…”

“I don’t want to hear it Scott. I dropped it.”

She picked up the pieces and took them to her office, locked them away and made a note to call IT about it before back out on the floor where Scott was looking at TC, glaring at him.

“Why not?”

He looked at Jordan, “I’m too close to the patient.”

“You know him?” Scott asked. “One of your army buddies?”

“I want to kill him,” TC answered. “That’s Drew’s father.”

Jordan winced. TC, while he joked about a lot of things, killing wasn’t one of them. She had no idea what had transpired between Drew and his father, but if TC was promising to kill the man, she didn’t doubt that he would.

“Walker can take him,” Jordan cut in. 

“Thank you,” TC said, grabbing his clipboard, going to make rounds and find Drew.

“I’m here to see, Andrew Alister,” a woman’s voice said. Jordan turned to look at the woman. “To follow up on a case.”

“Dr. Allister is on lunch,” Jordan told her, before checking her watch. “He should be back soon if you’d care to wait.”

“I’ll be with my father.”

When Drew arrived, walking into the ER with Lily, drinking from her cup and hugging him at the nurse’s station. 

“Forgot how good Texas food is,” she said. “Thanks, Drew.”

“No problem, Lil’ get out of here before you catch a cold.”

He walked back to the break room to put his things away and headed back out. 

“There’s someone requesting to see you in the Triage room,” Kenny said with a nudge and Drew huffed. 

“Sure, throw me to the wolves right after dinner.”

Kenny laughed and shook his head as Drew headed towards the triage room, tugging on his gloves. 

“Hello, I’m Dr….”

The words died in his throat seeing Elizabeth, Pamela and Luke  there. His leg bound carefully, apparently he’d twisted his ankle, doing gods knew what. A part of him that sounded suspiciously like TC said he’d should break the other with a sledgehammer.

“You haven’t been returning my phone calls,” Elizabeth said looking at him. “You’ve seen how hard I can make your life, Andrew.”

He swallowed thickly, stepping back as Elizabeth looked at her phone, “Lily should be here soon. I’d like to make this a two shot mission.”

Luke swung his leg over the side of the gurney as the door opened again, Lily walked in, looking at Drew’s pale face and Elizabeth, Pamela and Luke. She moved in front of him, standing between him and the rest of the room. 

“Liz’ this is so fucked up.”

“You watch your mouth--”

“Fuck you, old man,” she huffed. “Or I’ll break your other leg.”

He flushed that old rage, making Drew’s stomach tighten in response, the phantom feeling a boot in his stomach, “You don’t get to talk to me like that.”

“Enough,” Elizabeth cut in with a sigh, patting Luke on the leg. “We’re not here to fight. We’re here to help you.”

Lily scoffed, “Why the fuck would I help him?”

It was Elizabeth’s turn to flush that angry, Alister red. She looked just like Pamela would after just enough alcohol. The screaming started soon after, angry hateful words zipping through the air, clawing at the edges of the taste of sweet and peppery eggs, slightly crunchy because of the shell. Shredding the edges of the feeling of twin pairs of arms hugging him close and furious. 

_ You’re safe, Drew.  _

_ No one’s allowed to hurt you, Drew. _

Of the feeling of the couch in the living room and berry syrup…

And he stepped back, his face neutral and turned from the room, ignoring Elizabeth yelling after him and Lily telling her to shove her mouth or she’d shove it for her. 

“Drew?”

He looked up seeing Jordan there.

“W-what?”

“Are you okay? Is your father okay?”

She watched the remaining color in his cheeks vanish before he turned, covering his mouth and stomach before rushing away from her. It’s Kenny who finds him in the bathroom, hugging a toilet and emptying his stomach. 

“Ate something bad, man?”

Drew shuddered and gasped, flushing with choppy breaths. He doesn’t answer Kenny, stumbling out of the bathroom and into Lily who hugs him tightly.

“I’m so sorry, Drew…”

When TC rounded the corner, he found them standing there and knew more or less what had happened. 

“Drew,” he said so the man looked at him. “You with me?”

Drew nodded shakily, “Yeah…” 

He looked at Lily, “You… must be Lily. I’m TC.”

She nodded, “I’ve heard a lot about you. Thanks for taking care of him.”

He nodded, “He’s my brother too… I guess that makes you a sister now huh?”

Lily blinked and grinned, “Another hot brother? Yes.”

“He comes in a set,” Drew said humorously, trying to think around the taste of bile in his mouth. “A knight with the same face.”

She grinned, “It’s not even my birthday yet.”

Drew hugged her yet again and took the cup of hot chocolate that TC forced into his hand with just enough time to feel a little more human when the EMTs came charging in with a round of unconscious bodies from an accident down the highway. 

He moved, following TC’s lead as the rest of the ER began to fall in. Jordan yelling orders while the EMTs spoke almost too fast to catch it all and people were rushed to triage rooms and ERs to be stabilized. 

It’s an hour before it happened. TC is finishing up his report when a group came up to the desk asking to speak with the Head of ER. He didn’t recognized them immediately, but the woman looked like an older version of a teenager he’d had on his table all of an hour prior. Scott came around soon after. 

“Dr. Callahan,” the guy started looking at him strangely. “You’re… oddly short-- never mind--”

“I’m Dr. Scott Clemmens,” Scott said, through his teeth. “I’m the Head of ER.”

The man blinked, the woman looked confused and Cindy managed to only smile and hum as TC gracefully ducked around the desk and out of sight.

“Hey T--”

He grabbed Jayden and covered her mouth, “You did not see me, understand?”

With that he rushed off, putting as much distance between him and Scott as possible, before coming to a stop in his office with a deep sigh. Drew is on his couch with another cup of hot chocolate.

“You okay?”

He shook his head, “You didn’t see me either.”

Drew snorted, “What did you do?”

TC held up his hands, “I am not responsible for a misunderstanding.”

Drew gave him a suspicious look but when his pager beeped he stood and headed out the door, walking out of the office to answer the call. It’s the kind of shift that makes the usual after shift banter silent. They get changed in the locker rooms, or don’t and head home. TC is the first one in and the first one out to avoid and sort of communication and when Drew came out with Halle, who was still in her scrubs, he’s not surprised to see TC still straddling his bike. 

They part ways and Drew climbed into his truck, taking a deep breath and preparing himself for the emptiness that would be his condo. He stopped at the grocery store to pick up a few things and doesn’t even bother to stop himself from picking up a family sized box of Frosted Flakes. The pain is still there, but after a shift like that, he needed the comfort. So he picks up pancake mix and berries to make foster with and eat on their own, bacon and eggs before driving to his condo and heading up the elevator. He grabbed his mail on the way and walked into the condo, closed and locked the door behind him before putting his back to the door and breathing out, eyes closed. 

One more day, he’d made it one more day.

_ One day too-- _

“Rough shift?”

He opened his eyes looking at the man sitting in the wheelchair across the way. 

“R-Rick…”

His eyes flicker over Drew’s form for just a moment. He’d been waiting for Drew to get home for a better part of an hour. Beginning to think that maybe Drew just didn’t come home to the condo anymore, out running around doing god knew what. Finding comfort in god knew who because Rick had been a jackass-- or worse-- already moved on. 

“W-What are you… doing here, I thought…”

“To talk,” Rick started swallowing, “But… to apologize first…”

Drew swallowed, moving to walk to the kitchen, “There’s nothing to apologize for Rick, you didn’t--”

“I did,” Rick cut in. “I fucked up. I was a complete ass to you when all you wanted to do was help.”

“You weren’t in the best--”

“Stop making excuses for me, Drew,” Rick cut in, his voice firm like his hand on the back of Drew’s neck as he kneeled at his feet and let Rick fuck his mouth as rough as he liked, as rough as Drew liked…

It makes Drew go quiet.

“I’m holding myself accountable, as should you.”

Drew’s lips twitched as he started to unpack the groceries and Rick watched. It was a familiar nervous energy that used to follow nightmares and while Drew never spoke about what made him wake up screaming, Rich was beginning to think that it had absolutely nothing to do with war.

But then Drew is pulling out the box of Frosted Flakes and Rick gets it…

“I’m sorry,” Rick said softly. “Fuck Drew, I’m so... “

Rick swallowed watching Drew pull down a mixing bowl and feeling his stomach turn uncomfortably. It’s not the bowl, it’s not the pancake mix or the Frosted Flakes really… it’s the way Drew’s face has seemed to lost all of its colored, the usual glow of his tan gone, the way his hands shake… and the way he seems to be making himself smaller even though Rick is on the other side of the room. 

“What happened, babe?”

Drew turned, going to the refrigerator, taking out ingredients and putting groceries away at the same time. It’s practiced, regimented, but it does nothing to stop his shaking hands. 

“You said you wanted to talk--”

“What happened, Drew?”

“Nothing,” he said with a shake of his head grabbing for the measuring cup and nearly dropping it on the table. “Nothing, just a bad shift.”

“Drew,” Rick started. “I’ve seen you after a bad shift… this is something else.”

“I’m fine--”

The pyrex measuring cup went crashing to the ground, empty with a hard thud and Rick looked at him as Drew seemed to stop, staring down at the cup a little lost and a little overwhelmed. 

“Drew--”

“My parents,” Drew said. “I saw my parents today.”

Rick swallowed. Drew never said much about his parents, or his life before Regina. He knew that he was adopted at a young age and Regina had showered him with all the love in the universe, but that was all. 

“Together...with my sisters…”

“Is there… something you’re not telling me?” Rick asked watching Drew slide down to the ground, pulling his knees to his chest and curling into the corner of the kitchen. 

This isn’t the first time that he’s seen Drew do it,  curl himself into a corner as if he would fit...It is however, the first time that Rick isn’t there with him, coaxing him out of it, and Drew is actually talking. 

His voice is empty and so far away that Rick can barely recognize it as Drew’s voice and not some ghost still clinging to a shadow of a life.

“I was about 4...when they left me. Luke… was first. A few months later...a few months that I can’t remember more than the scars… she left too with Lily… in the house…”

Rick swallowed.

“I… went to school like normal. I didn’t know they’d left me permanently. I just.. I passed out. Pain, blood loss, infection, whatever… in class and I met Regina when I woke up. She adopted me right out of the hospital.”

Rick wheeled himself into the kitchen, towards Drew. 

“Drew…”

“I... “

_ Touch me...Please touch me...Please… _

“I wasn’t good enough,” Drew said, staring into nothing. “I wasn’t good enough for her to stay, for him to stay...She never wanted me...at least that’s what she said. Luke said… pretty much the same thing. He didn’t need us… Didn’t want us--at least, I thought us… But it was… just me--I wasn’t good enough.”

Rick closed his eyes, against the nausea, the swooning in his head. Recalling those words he’d thrown at Drew in anger with himself, with the world, with a lot of things and Drew… Drew had just been available to be punched, though he didn’t deserve it. He kept coming back and coming back…  

“ _ Fuck...Drew… _ ”he said. “I’m sorry… I.. fuck…Babe, I--”

Drew curled into himself and not looking at him, only flinching at the sound of Rick falling out of his wheelchair and crawling to him as fast as he can. He doesn’t stop when Drew flinched away from him, just pulls him close, arms around him and pressing a kiss to the side of his head. He finds himself shaking, angry at the world, at himself all over again because Drew was anything if not tactile. He liked to be touched, he liked to touch. There were many nights that Drew seemed higher from the snuggling than the sex itself and Rick had always loved that about him. 

Drew had never flinched from him before and it was like a knife to the heart to feel him so tense in his arms now. Fuck, fuck,  _ fuck _ ...

“Babe, I’m sorry, fuck, Drew, I didn’t mean it. I didn’t mean it, baby. I was angry, but not at you. Never at you, Drew. I love you.”

Drew can’t really hear the babbling of Rick. It comes through miles of white noise in his ears, but the warmth of Rick’s arms around him feels a bit like something he can’t describe, can’t really feel either. 

He’d gone to the quiet place again it seemed, where the only thing that made any noise were memories.  Who knows what the rest of him was saying, letting pour out from the darkness… he wondered if he let it happen long enough if Rick would leave again, too horrified, to disgusted to continue holding him. 

“I’ve been dodging them since January… It was Liz’ who gave the photo to the news crew… She’s wanted me to testify for his character...he nearly killed a patient I had… reputation…”

“January?” Rick asked and he felt Drew flinch again, his head turn as if just now realizing how close Rick was, what he’d let slip. Perhaps it’s the edge in his voice. “You’ve been doing this since before I left? Why didn’t you say anything?”

“I… I just…” Drew took a shaky breath, his eyes widened, his body quaking. “I just… you were...You needed space… and I…”

“Drew,” he said softly, cupping Drew’s face as his breathing gets more erratic and Rick watches the signs of a panic attack escalate so fast it scares him. “Babe…”

He’d never seen Drew like this. Drew had always been quiet, a little reclusive with some things, but always steady, strong… to see him shaking apart like this and to know that Rick had contributed to chipping away at Drew’s foundations was enough to make him want to chop his other leg off. At the same time… it explained so much of their relationship, answered so many questions about moments that Rick just couldn’t understand, even with distance.

_ It’s fine, I’m okay… _

_ Whatever you need, Rick… _

That look in his eyes, the resignation and despair that was always just behind the happiness, the caution of what Drew said. Never yelled, never even a raising of his voice… he could be forceful when he wanted to be, but never angry… hardly ever. His avoidance of any sort of conflict. The hesitance to reach out and let anyone know the truth of who he was…

How had Rick not seen exactly how… fragile Drew was behind all that? The choice to out himself in front of the entire hospital… Yes, Rick had been a private person. Yes, he’d been afraid too… but it wasn’t… anything compared to what that decision had meant for Drew and all the subsequent backlash that had come with it.

Drew had chosen him… over his life at the hospital, the life he would have to lead from that day forward… and he’d continue to chose Rick over his safety, over his comfort, over even his stability it seemed… He’d have to get his father to actually punch him in the face because fuck there was no apology sincere enough, nothing he could do to make this right.

“Baby…” Rick said watching Drew curl away from him, look away from him-- retreat faster that Rick could scramble after him.

“Y-You were already in enough pain… I just didn’t want to bother you… I didn’t know how to explain…”

“Drew…”

“Yes?”

“Come here.”

Drew looked at him. Rick on his knees, not even a few inches away from him, looking at him with those gorgeous eyes and open arms. Just a little, barely a few inches of movement would put him there.

“But…”

“Come here,” Rick said again and waited.

It’s slow, hesitant and it hurts somewhere deeper than where his independent mobility used to be to see Drew so hesitant to come to him, to touch him. But every bit closer feels a bit like absolution, a bit like hope because it means that Drew is still there, still wants him maybe… maybe could even forgive him someday.

When he’s close enough, Rick rocks back to sit down. Arms around Drew who has more or less curled up against him. A kiss to his forehead, to the bridge of his nose, his closed eyelids as he shakes in his arms and Rick rocks him slowly. 

“I’m so sorry, Drew. I’ve been such an idiot...For everything, God, if I’d known--it doesn’t matter. I shouldn’t have said those things. Any of it… I shouldn’t have taken it out on you. You didn’t deserve it. You’re the one I painted on, Drew… and I’ve treated you like shit.”

“It wasn’t your fault…” he continued, kissing his forehead again as Drew’s trembling eased. He’s quiet, maybe not listening, maybe he is. “You did everything,tried everything you could… and I was nothing but an ass to you. I’m sorry for not understanding, for not asking, for taking it out on you, for leaving you, baby.”

Rick let out another breath, pressing kissed to Drew’s head, holding him close and just letting Drew relax in his arms. 

“You’ve been struggling with this...your whole life... _ Fuck. _ You may never forgive me for the way I’ve made you feel, the way I’ve hurt you, Drew… Just know that I… I never meant to hurt you, babe. Never.”

Drew nodded slightly, melting a bit as Rick’s warmth sinks through the chill in his blood. A soft sigh escaping him that feels like relief and leads Rick to hug him tighter. He’s missed this… He’s missed Rick and if Rick could focus on anything else but apologizing and letting Drew know how much he loved him, he could tell that he’s missed holding Drew just as much. 

Rick tilts his jaw a bit to look him in the eyes, they’re tender, warm-- heart-achingly familiar and it makes Drew’s eyes burn and tear up from how much he’s missed Rick, how much pain he’s swallowed down that tasted like Frosted Flakes and goodbye. 

So when Rick pressed his lips to Drew’s, he isn’t sure why he can’t manage to hold himself up, why it’s more important to cling to Rick than it is to breathe and why there’s such a broken, pained sound coming from him, hot streaks down his face.

He’s…  _ crying _ he realizes sometime between Rick kissing him and crawling into Rick’s lap the best he can. Rick is taller by all of two inches, they’re rather close body type wise, but Rick had always felt so much bigger.  

He’s sobbing, years of it just pouring out of him, years that he can’t stop and hadn’t even know existed. He’s pretty sure that he’s going to be severely dehydrated when it’s over, hungry, and Rick will probably need a new shirt, but he can’t seem to stop. It feels…

It feels like catharsis and healing. Tastes like sweet peppery eggs and crunchy pancakes a bit--like warm berry foster on chocolate chip pancakes. It feels like breathing after months of low oxygen, just at the brink of suffocation. 

“Shh,” Rick soothed, kneading the muscles in his neck and rubbing his back, warm lips pressing to his forehead. “I’ve got you, Drew.”

“I’m sorry, Rick.”

“You haven’t done anything wrong,” he said. “You understand?”

Drew doesn’t respond, sucking in a ragged breath. 

“Fuck, you just wanted to be there for me, and I… I kept pushing you away. If I wasn’t so trapped in my own bullshit… I would have left you… Thank you, for not giving up on me. You’re so damn strong, Drew. Stronger than me… God, how lucky I was to have a chance to paint you on… and I fucked it up.”

Drew’s hands tightened in his shirt as he sniffled. 

“I love you,” he said softly. “I love you so much.”

“I love you too,” Drew said. “And...I don’t want you to take me off.”

Rick smiled, kissing his head again, “Sure? I seem to not understand how perfect a fit you are…”

Drew shook his head, “Unless… you want to take me off.”

“Not even to wash,” he said with a sigh. “How about we order in? You need food, Drew and then to bed?”

“Will you stay?”

Rick licked his lips, “Do you want me to?”

Drew nodded. 

“Then yes. I’ll stay… as long as you want.”

Drew let out a breath and nodded, slow to get up and walk towards the drawer where they kept all the takeout menus as Rick managed to get back into his wheelchair. 

“Chinese, Mexcian, or Thai?”

Rick groaned, “Such a hard decision!”

Drew laughed, “Thai. Got it.”

*

While his pre-Halle, post-shift ritual featured himself silly, his post-Halle ritual seemed to include running. Something he hadn’t really done since medical school. TC is heading to the gym when he gets the text message. 

_ Dinner tomorrow? _

He grinned,  _ Can I have you for dessert? _

_ LOL, Maybe if I’m good. _

He licked his lips at that. Flirty was good, very good, it had taken a while for her to get flirty about a lot of things so somewhere in TC’s heart, he was punching the air in victory.

_ You’re always good. Where? When? _

He stepped into the small gym and began stretching, standing by the treadmill he intended to use with a deep breath. It takes a while for the reply to come. TC assumes it's because she’s typing or busy, but when it comes, he isn’t sure if he’s supposed to stop breathing, to damn near lose his balance and go crumbling to the floor, but it happens anyway.

_ Tell me what you’d like to eat. 1711 Sunset Lk. _

TC blinks and struggles to breathe for a second because clearly, if it was a restaurant she would have given him a name and a cross street… No, this was her home address, there in indelible, archivable, infinitely retrievable and dispersible text message. The implications went through his brain a little too fast and left him  dizzy. 

Meanwhile, Halle is trying not to check her phone every few seconds since she’d sent it, her stomach twisting in knots. Praying that she wasn’t making the wrong call and trying to focus on this report that she had to finish soon. She’s managed to get three pages of it out of the way when the phone rings. 

“This is Halle.”

“ _ Anything? _ ” TC asked something like humor and a bit of trembling in his voice.  “Or do I have limits?”

Halle licked her lips and rolled back, “Anything.”

He hummed lightly, “Lucky for you, I’m a southern boy…”

*

“I am heart-wrenching, inexplicably nervous,” Halle said as soon as the video call connected. “Help!”

Brooklyn looked at the screen on the far wall where Halle’s face was then to Cinaed who was busying himself on the other side of the island getting things together for dinner. 

She didn’t usually spend a lot of time in the kitchen, usually on the phone with a client when he was in the throes of cooking, but tonight was special. She’d left her work at the office completely, no pressing deadlines, no disasters to manage...Things were great. Cinaed hadn’t been gone for a business trip longer than a week (including the travel there and back) since their conversation and was humming an En Vogue song as he worked. 

“What’s wrong sweetheart? You sound... “

_ Heart-wrenchingly and inexplicably nervous… _

“Apt,” is what she said.

“I… invited TC over for dinner.”

Brooklyn tilted her head. For one, Halle’s hair was out of its twists in loose curls, twisted and pinned delicately… she only did that for special occasions. Her lips were a gradient blue and she was pretty sure her eyelashes were popped a little more than usual. 

“Are you wearing make-up?” Cinaed asked turning to the screen.

“Lipstick does not count as makeup.”

“Mascara and lip liner does,” Brooklyn said with a grin. “Trying to keep that one, are you? Let’s see how nervous you are…”

Brooklyn and Cinaed leaned on the island with a humored smile. Halle nervous usually meant a few things: lipstick of some insane quality and bright color (check), mascara (check), and some insane outfit that exuded confidence, appeal and --

“Well damn,” Brooklyn said as Halle stepped back from the camera and gave them a spin.

A full lace, off the shoulder dress, hugging the curve of her in a vibrant purple over what seemed to be a blue sheath. It was classy with just enough sex appeal topped off with a pair of platforms she’d never seen before in the same blue as her lips. 

“Yep… you’re really nervous. Is that new?”

“I bought it… about eight hours after I asked him over.”

Cinaed snorted, “You really like this guy, don’t you? What are you making?”

She turned , “Chicken Potpie, mashed potatoes…shrimp and cheese stuffed bacon wrapped jalapenos…”

Brooklyn smiled as Cinaed let out a low whistle, “Dessert?”

“Yeah, how do you have a three-course meal, without dessert?”

“Apple pie,” she said, turning to the workspace. Apparently, she was still managing to get that last bit together. “Ice cream.”

Cinaed didn’t comment on the ice cream maker bowl in her sink, but Brooklyn did.

“You made him ice cream from scratch?”

“Yes…?” Halle said tentatively, pouring caramel into her pie crust and then layering apples and more caramel, whiskey, cinnamon on top. 

Since there was a peeler in the sink as well and the bowl on her bar was full of Honeycrisp, Mutsu, and Granny Smith apples, they guessed that even the apple pie was made from scratch… She’d more than likely been cooking all day for this… in between cleaning and trying not call it all off.

“Is that an apple shaped pan? Are you okay?” Brooklyn asked. “Maybe you should take a Xanax or something?’

She winced, “I’m fine. Really… just nervous.”

“Apple shaped pie dish,” Cinaed said with a lift of his eyebrow. “How long ‘til he gets there?”

“About thirty minutes.”

“Put the pie in the oven and at least have a shot,” Brooklyn told her. “What’s wrong?”

Halle sighed, laying the crust on top, trimming the edges and cutting the appropriate holes in the top. She let it sit while she loaded the dishwasher and turned it on.

“Word?” Brooklyn asked. “Apple shaped?”

“Just put  _ keep me forever _ on top,” Cinaed said with a nod. “In caramel.”

“On top of the ice cream when you serve it,” Brooklyn said. “Far more direct.”

“Or on top of you,” Cinaed suggested. “You should take the dress off first, though.”

“Shove it,” she said opening one of her ovens and sliding the pie into it to bake. 

She went to her refrigerator pulled out a bottle of chilled whiskey.

“Beer?”

“Hard Apple Cider… Ale…”she said. 

“Do you have Apple Crown?”

“Yes.”

“Perfectly round ice cubes?”

“Yes.”

“Square?”

“Yes.”

“Rocks?”

“Yes.”

“Apple shaped?”

“Yes--” she glowered at the screen. “You’re fucking with me aren’t you?”

“Just trying to see how much you love this guy,” Brooklyn said with a smile. “But seriously, the apple ice cubes? Ridiculous.”

“I’ve had those for a while.”

“Like a week?”

“Like several months, thank you.”

“So… when you started dating?”

Halle didn’t comment but poured a shot for herself and tossed it back before closing the bottle and climbing up to sit on her counter, looking at her freshly manicured toes in her peep-toe shoes. 

“I’m nervous,” she said. “I trust him, I do. It’s just… some things are...harder to get over I guess…”

Brooklyn nodded in understanding. Halle hadn’t ever let many people into her personal space whether that was her room or her apartment. There was her research, but there was also her personal hobbies. She was a bit of crafty person, kind of quirky, she baked and cooked, and did all these things that would seem the complete opposite of her personality some days. She bought crazy dishes, her mementos and world travel racks…

It was a lot, sort of a last threshold of their relationship. 

“You ever consider you might just love him?” Cinaed asked. 

Halle nodded, “That… might be why I’m so nervous.”

“I know that feeling,” Brooklyn said. “But unless you’re going to cancel at the last minute, you’re going to have to take a deep breath and relax. I’m pretty sure TC’s at the same level as you, but you’re not going to know until he gets there…”

Whether he can deal with all of her quirks or not… The fact that sometimes she just wanted to repaint the walls a different color, the fact that each room had it’s own ambiance, the collages of pictures from her travels, random knick knacks… Coding and knitting,  krav maga and ballet…

“I know,” she said. “Doesn’t mean I have to be comfortable with it.”

*

TC, to his credit, drove the speed limit the entire way there…. Yet he was still early, even after getting turned around in a piece of the subdivision and having to curse at his GPS for a good minute… 

He was still early when he pulled up a few houses down and walked his bike down. It felt a little like Christmas all over again. Leaving himself room for escape, hoping for an excuse.. Anything.

“Hey, I thought you were going on a date?”

TC leaned against his bike, “I’m at her house.”

“What are you doing on the phone with me?” Gwaine asked humorously. “Is this an invitation?”

“This is  _ your little brother is nervous  _ actually,” TC laughed. 

Gwaine hummed anytime TC owned up to being the younger twin there was a problem, “How early are you?’

“About five minutes.”

“Cutting it close for a pep talk aren’t you?”

“Gwaine,” he groaned.

“Right… Big Brother cap… Hmmm… she invited you. You didn’t die on the way there. There will probably be sexy times, so take a deep breath and ring the doorbell.”

“You… are terrible at this.”

“I didn’t claim to be good at it,” Gwaine told him. “You’re nervous for nothing. You have the address and unless she turns you away at the door or isn’t there--you’re golden.”

“Really not good at this, I’m hanging up now.”

“You won’t hurt her,” Gwaine said. “You love her too much.”

Then Gwaine disconnected the call and TC stared at his cell phone. The sneaky motherfucker-- he hated when Gwaine did that, but he let it go, opening his saddlebag to drag out the bottle of wine and taking the time to actually look at the house. It was at the very back of the subdivision, from the size of it, it looked like a house of two lots with a high fence leading to the back yard. He wondered for a moment if she had a pool, if she had a pool boy and how many teenagers in the neighborhood came to peek over her fence when she was in it. He didn’t smell chlorine, so maybe she had a natural pool… there was no telling and it didn’t matter. 

The front yard’s lawn was immaculate and for a moment, TC considered the fact that she probably maintained it herself… because that was just the sort of person she was. She’d probably done the landscaping and everything, probably most of the maintenance too. The front door was the sort of ornate quality that made him feel like he was going to meet someone’s parents not his girlfriend for dinner, a very different feel than Jordan’s house on the other side of town, the condo, or even Topher’s house. The neighborhood was a very different type of money all together. 

He took a breath and pressed the doorbell, locking himself in place as he heard her coming to the door, calling out that she was coming. The door opened and he was instantly distracted by the flutter of her eyelashes in the low light. 

“Hi,” she said, “Come in.”

TC smiled at her and took in her full form as she held the door open for him and welcomed him inside. 

_ Lace _ , he thought, impossibly delicate and beautiful. Sinfully fitting her curves. He’d gathered from the conference that she dressed according to exactly how nervous she was… clothes were like armor sometimes and from the look of her, beautiful, distractedly alluring, she was beyond nervous. Nervous about having him over? 

His stomach rolled, perhaps she was worried that he’d have an episode and hurt her? It had been the one thing he dreaded more than anything, it would stand to reason that she worried about it as well.

“You look beautiful,” he said. “I feel a bit under-dressed…”

She laughed, “You’re not.”

“Shoes off?”

“Doesn’t matter,” she said, lifting the bottle from his hands, “You find me okay?”

“Kind of got turned around in the subdivision, but other than that fine…”

He followed her down the hall, taking in the warmth of the hallway leading to the living room that seemed to be full of… Halle. All the parts of her he’d caught glimpses of when they talked, her trips across the world, her stint in lingerie football… college, her family, John Hopkins and beyond. A picture that was obviously taken at a wedding, a beautiful bride who looked much liked her.

“This must be the illustrious Brooklyn,” he said. “You could be sisters.”

She grinned, “Well B is my oldest brother’s age, so… yeah. We could be.”

He hummed. 

“It’s supposed to rain sometime tonight… would you like to move your bike into the garage?”

He swallowed trying to focus on what she was saying beyond the smell of dinner in the air, notes that he couldn't quite figure out and the look of her standing in the middle of her living room looking somewhere in between nervous and observant. At least he wasn’t the only one nervous, but to have her watching him was odd. 

“Come here,” he said softly. 

She came to him, setting the bottle on the table before coming to stand in front of him. 

“I can go,” he said softly. “If it puts you on edge to have me here…”

She smiled, stepping closer to curl her fingers into his shirt and relax against him slightly. 

“I wouldn’t have invited you if I didn’t want you here.”She looked up at him, as he cupped her cheek, “I trust you.”

TC nodded, pressed a kiss to her forehead and told her that he’d move his bike into the garage if she gave him instructions. She laughed.

“I’ll open the door.”

He left out the front door as she headed towards the side door and pressed the garage door button. He was pretty sure he’d never seen a garage door open so quickly to reveal her car and the empty spot beside it. 

“A two car garage, only one car?” TC asked, walking his bike up the driveway. 

She shrugged, “Came with the house, so did the attic.”

She turned on the light as he steadied his bike in the empty space and walked back to the side door, following the smell of food towards the dining room then the kitchen. 

“Food’s almost done, but I’ve got Poppers if you want them.”

“Oooh,” he said, sitting at the bar. “Yes, please.”

Whatever he was expecting, this wasn’t it. For one, they were on a platter. Like an honest to god entertaining platter with olive branches trimming the rim of it, arranged like something out of a catalog. Something was telling him that she wasn’t just nervous… but deathly so. Then a bottle of Woodchuck appeared, his favorite flavor and he looked at her. It was ice cold, the top was popped and in general she looked about ready to bolt. In his experience there was very thick line between a gracious host and a nervous one. 

Halle was definitely nervous, gracious host. 

“Come here,” he said, taking her hand and drawing her from around the bar.

He spun her around to get the full picture before looking at her and standing from his seat, walking her back and around to pin her against the bar.

“Why are you so nervous, sweet?” He asked looking down at her.

“It… means a lot to me.”

TC grinned, “It means a lot to me too.”

She let out a breath and finally, TC felt like he could kiss her without potentially breaking some code. She tasted a bit like liquor and mint like she’d just brushed her teeth or something, but there was no denying the way she practically melted against him, apparently hoping he would just kiss her and take away some of the anxiety. 

“If you aren’t careful, I’ll have you for an appetizer,” he said, kissing her cheek. 

“I… would like that.”

_ Nervous leads to sex-- _ duly noted. He grinned.

“Anything you need to pull out of the oven right now?”

“Dinner…in about fifteen.”

“Good enough for me,” he said and slid his hands over the curve of her waist, down her backside and groaned. 

He’d had enough experience to know what kind of underwear she was wearing from the feel of it… Tonight, there was nothing to feel.

“ _ Halle _ ,” he breathed, walking her back to the dining room table. “You’re killing me. Why aren’t you wearing underwear?”

“Distraction,” she said as he peeled the dress over the curve of her ass, turned her around and bent her over the table, a dark flush on her cheeks and her eyes dilated as he undid his belt and dug in his pocket for a condom behind her.

“From what?  _ Sense? _ ” He asked sliding a finger into her roughly and shuddering at how wet she was already. 

She was going to be the death of him. She’d lured him here with the promise of dinner and the actual intention to fry his brain because holy heaven had she been thinking about this?

“Nervous,” she gasped as he added another finger and his hand finally cooperated, tearing open the package with his teeth and fumbling it open to pinch and roll on before his brain got any more fuzzy. 

“Going to be the fucking death of me,” TC growled, sliding into her on just the right side of rough and stilling his hips for a moment as she caught her breath. 

“Swear to god, all fucking dressed up for me, a goddamn platter Halle?” A hand on the back of her neck to keep her still as he stroked into her, “You know we eventually have to return to work don’t you? What the fuck were you trying to do? Trap me here with food and sex?”

She didn’t answer more than moaning and pleading with him go faster, harder. At some point, he didn’t even register that, still somehow scolding and praising her for generally being so goddamn amazing that he could barely understand the fact that she was coming and he wasn’t stopping. How she was still managing to stand in those heels after he was done however, was a thing of awe. He’d never had a thing for heels before but as he stepped back to land a solid smack on her ass and watch her tremble, he decided that he could definitely develop one. Whatever the height of these were, they made her the perfect height to bend her over her dining table and fuck her senseless, mess up her make-up and generally debauch her before dinner. Yeah, that was a far better appetizer than poppers, even though he hadn’t come, it was far worth it just to look at her like this...Vulnerable, trusting… honest--

For him.

“You okay, sweet?”

She nodded, breathing slowly as she came back down and he tugged the dress back down over her hips and the condom off, hissing at how hard he still was and deciding that there was no way he’d be able to zip up his pants if just pulling up his boxers sent shots of discomfort and pleasure racing up his spine.

“Let me get these off?”

She did, not moving as he held her steady and removed her shoes before getting her off the table and into his arms. They sat on the floor in her dining room for a moment as the timer went off.

“It’ll turn off in a second,” she said softly, a little hazy from orgasm and happy to curl up against him. 

“Hell of a distraction, Halle,” he said. “From what?”

“Everything,” she said with a sigh. “Hungry now.”

He  chuckled at that and got her into a chair before moving to get the platter off the bar and his woodchuck for them to share. The tension seemingly disappeared for the moment. And though he didn’t ask, he had a feeling that Halle’s invitation was more than just letting him into her space… but maybe… letting her into her head as well and that was a tad exhilarating if he said so himself. 

She got up after a while to get dinner, returning with matching plates. A thick slice of steaming chicken pot pie and scoops of mashed potatoes. 

“Are you auditioning for a homemaking magazine?” He asked starting at the plate. “Seriously, is this a picture or dinner?”

It’s a shy and proud smile as she gave him a fork, “Try to eat it and see.”

“Challenge accepted,” he said taking the fork. “Thank you.”

She took a seat and TC made himself not acknowledge the fact that she was watching him. Maybe for a reaction, but at the first taste he couldn’t help it. 

“I… would like to request to have the rest of this to take home…. And perhaps if I could bring you too… that’d be great.”

She smiled at him, “The first I can do… the second you’ll have to work for.”

He grinned, “I can do that.”

He ate three slices before she told him he’d better have room for dessert.

“Babe, give me like thirty minutes, maybe crawl in my lap and I’ll have all the room in the world.”

It ended up being more like two hours since he’d peeled off her dress, finding that there was no underwear beneath it at all and having her over her couch this time. He sort of felt bad if she ever had company, but since it was a slip cover, his conscience didn’t take too big of a hit. Hell, he’d even wash it. 

She stood up, tugging on his dress shirt and went to the kitchen, grabbing him another cider and returning with matching bowls of his death, he was sure.

“Is that… what I think it is?”

“Maybe,” she said handing one to him. Drizzled in caramel, vanilla ice cream still melting from the heat of the pie beneath. 

“You’re going… to kill me,” he said, dragging his spoon through the insanity and taking a bite.

_ Holy fuck, _ he looked at her, eating from her bowl with a small smile on her lips. He knew he was blushing, but couldn’t seem to give a damn. 

Sure, she’s cooked for him. Yes, he’d chosen the meal, but no he didn’t expect this. It’s one thing to make him apple pie… it’s another to clearly spend some major time and energy doing so. So when they were finished, he followed her to the kitchen to set his bowl in the dishwasher, to help put everything away as the sound of the rain began. Not so thick that they would be called in more than likely, but not light enough that he could ride through. 

“Any of that caramel left?”

She blinked at him, his eyes promising things. 

“I have work to do remember?”

A part of her wants tell her not to give him the rest of it, she was sure, but she couldn’t hear it. Not when he laid her out on the dining room table and drizzled her in caramel. Not when he took his time sucking it off her skin… not when he carried her to her room and took her apart piece by piece to the sound of the rain falling. His hand in her hair, pressing her lips to his as he thrust into her slow and determined, until they couldn’t move, couldn’t think… couldn’t do anything but fall asleep curled together comfortably in her Queen sized bed.

Surprisingly, Halle wakes up first. Not startled by a nightmare or even pulled out from having TC in her bed. It was the slow lazy, Saturday midday surfacing into consciousness that she hadn’t felt in years. TC was still fast asleep, an arm around her waist, his face tucked into the crook of her neck, breathing softly. She manages to slip from bed leaving him still sleeping and walk to the kitchen to make breakfast. She’s cracking eggs when comes up behind her, half-hard, warm and handsy with a kiss to her neck. 

“Morning,” he hummed resting his chin on her shoulder. “What’s going on here?”

“Food,” she said easily. “Waffles or pancakes?”

He groaned, “Pancakes, you’re going to kill me, Halle.”

She smiled, “I’ll keep that in mind.”

TC’s phone rings sometime after breakfast while Halle is in the shower. It’s a reminder that he’s supposed to meet up with some Veterans for an event downtown. Halle kisses him gently and tells him to at least shower first before picking up the phone to answer her father. 

He invites her to meet Victoria, his girlfriend, for breakfast after her next shift and by the time they settle on a place, TC is already out of the shower, drying his hair messily and looking for his pants. While not perfectly clean, he at the very least doesn’t smell like sex and syrup any more. She walked him to the garage and down the driveway, her hair corralled and in comfy clothes and a silky robe over her sleep gown.

“Dinner was phenomenal, and damn it I wish I could reschedule.”

She smiled, “I like blow jobs.”

He closed his eyes at the stutter of his heart, holding on to his bike for strength even as he managed to say, “Is that so?”

She nodded, “Rough, hands in my hair… blow jobs too.”

He swallowed looking at her, “I’ll remember that...fuck Halle, how am I supposed to ride there?”

“If you ride there,... you can always ride back.”

TC licked his lips standing fully to approach her and pull her up against him, “Call me if you change your mind. Otherwise, you have about two hours before you’re on your knees for me.”

She bit her lip and nodded closing her eyes as he kissed her gently and turned to get on his bike. He cranked up the engine and guided the bike down the street as she watched and turned to walk back up her driveway. He arrived back in about an hour and thirty minutes, citing that his veteran group told him that taking care of her needs was more important that meeting with them.

He stopped her before she could reach for his belt and walked her to her bedroom to ask her questions, to negotiate, set rules, real long-standing rules that they both need before he puts her on her knees and fucks her mouth until he’s pretty sure she’ll be hoarse come their next shift.

She isn’t and TC is almost determined to make it so she is the next time.


	18. "You Broke Our Spirit," Says The Note We Pass.--

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Two steps forward, ten steps back...

“Get down!”

Jayden dropped to the ground at the sound of gunshots and screaming. 

“Halle?” Jayden asked seeing the woman sliding across the floor to tackle the shooter’s legs from under him, taking him down effectively and aiming the gun towards the television while she got it from his hands. 

There’s a ruthless sound of a fist against a jaw and the man goes still beneath her. She hands the gun off to the security officer and turned to where people were  scrambling to get to the man on the ground, bleeding out. Yet it isn’t any of the nurses that arrive there first, but TC who had sprinted across the foyer, being the only doctor currently there. Disregarding the pool of blood growing around him soaking into his scrubs, hearing nothing but the sand and screaming, the shaky breathing and the sound of clothing ripping.

“We need to get him to triage,” one of the nurses said. Halle shook her head, he was bleeding out a little too fast to wait for a gurney or enough muscle to carry him there.

“ _ You stay awake you hear me? _ ,” TC said, his voice so far away that she wasn’t sure who was talking, or who he was talking to as he opened the man’s chest, gloved hands, and the tools she’d given him for Christmas  out of their 

Scott came running out, yelling for a gurney and someone to prep an OR, but TC is already moving, gloves slick with blood, pressing against the holes in the man’s chest as he goes pale. Halle and Drew don’t argue with Scott who’s asking why they’ve appeared with a supplies enough to stock an OR instead of getting the man onto a gurney that hadn’t arrived.

“ _ Tongs. Dab. Needle.” _

Drew passes them, getting a catheter in the man’s arm as blood spills faster around them, wetting TC’s knees, preparing an IV blood drip on the man’s arm as TC pulls bullet after bullet out of him, stitching the man closed almost as fast as the blood spills onto the floor.

“ _ Talk to me, your name, your family, talk to me, _ ” He said his voice soft, even as he moves faster than she’s ever seen with a precision that spoke of hours of stitches being done in a hurry. 

“J-James,” the man gasped, his eyes hazy, fearful. TC’s eyes are focused, his fingers moving to sew faster than the man can bleed out. “Wife… daughter…”

Paul and Krista watch on as the rest of the ER seems to stand perfectly still, watching TC move so fast that there isn’t time to figure out what kind of stitch he’s using. 

Paul swallowed thickly watching, “He’s… a monster.”

“A  _ machine _ ,” Krista said. “Never seen anyone sew that fast…”

Bullets roll onto the tray Halle has provided as she dabbed around the holes to keep the area dry. The man is getting pale, his eyes water.

“ _ How old? _ ” TC asked, cutting the thread and starting on the next. “ _ How old is she? _ ”

“Three… _ ” _

“We need to get this man to the OR,” Scott said coming over, “They’re bringing a gurney.”

“ _ Stay with me, James, _ ” TC urged. “Almost done. Keep talking, you hear me?”

Drew attached the IV line to the catheter opened the flow and watched as TC finished the last stitch and Halle helped him turn the man over.

“ _ When’s the last time you talked to her? She got a birthday coming up soon? _ ”

“Next month,” the man gasped. “Promised to take her out… just a day for us…”

“ _ You think of her damn it. You think of her and you think of how much you’ll spoil her, understand? You hold on to that. _ ”

The one bullet that had gone through his shoulder, a slow leaking of blood, easy to stitch, a clean GSW all the way through. When he’s done, he, Halle, and Drew lift him on to the just arrived  gurney, oxygen mask over his face, blood dangling from the hook above his head as TC keeps him talking, keeps him focused until they can get him into the OR. There’s one bullet he couldn’t get without opening him up. 

One last bullet, one more--just one more.

“ _ You hold on alright. Think of her. Think of your wife, you understand me? _ ”

Scott had scrubbed in, ready to take over, but TC hadn’t even glanced at him when they arrived, reaching for a scalpel to open him up a little more and talk to him. 

He can’t hear Scott’s voice as he’s talking to the man that isn’t going under. He breathes, grabbing the tongs to dislodge the last bullet, put it and the tongs on the tray and check for other damage that he may have missed. There is none beside the normal internal trauma and he sews the man up as Drew adds a morphine drip and the man gets drowsy, shaking, frightened.

“ _ You think of her, understand? _ ” TC said to him earning a nod, his vital evening out, slowing. 

It’s the slow beeping of life that he hears as the bombs go off and his commander drags him away from the young lieutenant he’d been working on. His hands bloody still and the fact that he didn’t finish the last stitch, wasn’t fast enough… The ground explodes beneath him, blowing him away from the man who’d been so afraid.

James… Lieutenant  James Melott…

“TC?” Halle asked watching him step back as the rest of the surgical team moved to check his work, the man’s vitals, and the clean him up. 

He stepped back, blinking, the beeping of the EKG pulling him from the deafening roar of an explosion and his own frustrated screaming. 

“TC?”

He looks at her as if he can’t understand how she got there. 

“H-Halle?”

She smiled at him, “I’m here. You with me?”

He blinked looking at Drew, to Halle, to the man on the table and then to Scott who looked somewhere in between furious and raging. 

“What… happened?”

Halle took his hand, guiding him out of the OR, tugging the gloves off his hands, turning him towards the sink to wash the rest of the blood on him off. When he’s done so, returning to the normalcy of that, she directs him towards the locker room away from the noise of the foyer as people scramble to keep everyone calm and the police come in to canvas the place, to sit him down and clean him up as he shakes and fades in and out of the present. She throws his scrubs into the bio-hazard wash bucket along with her own that have been stained and washes up. Once their changed, she directs him down the hall to the soundproof closet, past one of the representatives of the board who writes something down, but he can’t seem to care. She gets him onto the gurney they usually share, headphones to play music and blot out the sounds in his ears and kisses his forehead.

“I’ll be back,” she told him. “With food.”

He nodded, “Promise?”

She kissed him and pressed his hair back, “Promise.”

She leaves and though the music is helpful, it doesn’t drown out the memories of that day. It haunted him still. He thought he was better… though he was getting better… He chuckled darkly and wondered how this was going to affect Halle’s research… 

He tugged the headphones out of his ears, sat up and just stared into the past with a morbid darkness. He’d never gotten a chance to find that man’s sister to tell her that he’d had to leave him in the middle of hell, probably blown to pieces.

Lt. James Melott had been terrified at the end, holding on to TC’s words, eyes pleading with TC not to leave him. To help him…

_ I’m going to die, aren’t I? _

He remembered telling him he wouldn’t, working faster. It didn’t matter if the stitches were surgical or not so long as it kept the wound closed. He’d get him off the ground as soon as he wasn’t in danger of bleeding out with any sudden movement. 

_ Callahan, let’s move! _

_ I’m sorry, _ TC thinks to those eyes that had pleaded with him, not to leave him. The man who’d told him about this wonderful sister of his who would be crushed if her brother didn’t make it to her wedding in a few months time.

The way he’d screamed as the explosion went off and the shock wave carried him and his commander over a rock bank and away from the lieutenant he’d been patching up. 

He hadn’t finished the last stitch… 

Hadn’t had a chance to…

*

“Keep Scott away from TC or your head of Trauma is going to end up in the ER,” Landry warned, glaring at Ragosa.

Ragosa’s jaw dropped, “Are you serious?”

“You think picking a fight with him after he had such a serious episode won’t lead to Scott getting himself potentially killed?”

Ragosa winced, because even though TC was pretty good at projecting a harmless  appearance, it hadn’t been so long ago that he’s punched Ragosa so hard that he blacked out… mind you he probably deserved it… Just a little.

Scott didn’t really want to tangle physically with TC.

“Dr. Clemmens,” Ragosa started. “Perhaps in light of the situation, it would be best if you do not approach TC.”

Scott fumed, “You’re going to let this stand? A blatant disregard for protocol in the middle of an extensive audit? In the middle of a crisis situation?”

“He would have been dead if we waited for a gurney to start,” Drew said. “Audit or not--we had to move.”

“Stay out of this Dr. Alister,” Scott hissed. “You should be ashamed for feeding into it—Army or not.”

Drew grits his teeth but before he could speak, the door opened and TC stood there he’d changed clothes, cleaned up and looked as though he was only halfway in the present.

“Dr. Clemmens is right,” he said and Landry’s jaw dropped, Ragosa’s eyes widened and Drew’s stomach turned.

He’d heard that voice once before and it had made him sick then too. Jordan looked at the shadow of the man in the doorway and even Scott had been stunned into silence as TC regarded Ragosa.

“I wasn’t there and no matter what I did, I was a liability,” he said. “I could have killed him, made it worse at the worst possible time and for that I’m sorry.”

Drew’s stomach turned, “T—”

“I’ll go give my statement now,” TC said from so far away that he wasn’t sure if he was speaking before turning and heading towards the police officers and Halle who was carrying a plate of food for him.

“TC…” she started. “I thought…”

“I’m fine,” he said softly. “Just… thought I shouldn’t be laying down on the job. Where’s the progress in that?”

Halle frowned as he walked past her not sure what that was supposed to mean, but knew that it wasn’t good. He spoke with the police officers as Drew and Topher walked out of the room they’d commandeered for their argument.

“You alright Halle?” Topher asked.

She shook her head, “I don’t know.”

It isn’t until TC finds himself truly alone in one of the empty rooms that he feels the rage beneath his skin. He pushed the empty stand just to hear it crash to the ground. Pushing things over, but there’s nothing to break, nothing more than the crash of things falling to the ground. A bit like his life it seemed…everything was already in pieces after all. 

Jesus, he thought he was getting better. Wasn’t that what it was all for? Drawing the line, getting help that didn’t belong in a Specs, or a bar. Not picking fights just because he needed to hurt in some tangible way. A way that would go away with enough time, something to distract him from the ache that wouldn’t ever go away.

The ache was where Lt. James Merlott’s frightened eyes were staring at him in his chest.

The place the hole in Thad’s chest remained…

The place where Afghanistan waited to drag him back and remind him that he was state-side, but his mind was still there.

“TC!” Halle called closing the door behind her. “What—”

“Don’t,” TC said, shaking his head, laughing darkly. “Nothing you’re going to say is going to help. Nothing is ever going to make this go away.”

She closed her mouth listening to him, “I could have killed him… Anything could have happened. I can’t even remember anything I’ve done. I could have killed any of you and there is nothing you can say or do, there’s not enough apple pie or tea in the world to make this go away.”

She swallowed watching him, thinking of her brothers… how Camden had said roughly the same thing. It hits somewhere near where she kept memories of her mom’s last moments. The place where nightmares live and taps at the container she kept them in.

“I thought… I was getting better…” He laughed shaking his head, “There’s no cure for this…”

“Don’t do this to yourself, TC,” she said, reaching out to him. “You saved that man’s life.”

“But I didn’t!” He said. “I left him to die there in Afghanistan. Left him in the middle of the field alone and terrified because I wasn’t fast enough! Because I couldn’t…”

He cuts himself off and just as she thought, his panic wasn’t about the man who was on life support, but the one he was remembering while he treated him.

“Is that what you were remembering?” Halle asked and TC scoffed looking at her.

“I’m sorry,” TC said with a sigh. “I’m not really up for observation right now.”

Her jaw tenses as he turned to leave, closing the door hard behind him as she leaned back against the wall as her eyes burned and she closed them, blinking away tears, breathing deeply. No matter how much it hurt, she had to think, she had to breathe because it was just the same… as Camden locking the door and sleeping, curled up beside it every night. The same as learning army codes to talk her brothers out of their moments slow and easy and still there with a warm cup and a hug for them. 

No matter how many times she’d gone through this, this slippery uphill battle with a war-torn mind… it still hurt to be shut out, but she knows it’s not being shut out so much as shutting down, curling up, protecting their wounds… It’s fear of themselves… of this person they’ve become and don’t know….

Logically, she knows that it has nothing to do with her, but with him and a frustration so deep that he can’t even begin to face it alone and doesn’t want anyone to see exactly how deep the wound goes.

So she wipes her face, dries her eyes and picks up the plate she’d made for him. She goes to the kitchen to fill his thermos with caramel apple magic. There’s a Tupperware container filled with mini apple pies and she carried it all to his office. She takes a piece of paper to write a note and leaves it on his keyboard before leaving to carry on with her shift. 

*

He took his fifteen minute break to run as fast as he could down the road and back. The journey ending in his office to get started on something that could just hold his focus, that didn’t involve people or anything else. He left his phone on his desk, which is beeping with messages from Drew, texts asking him where he was, to call him back. The food on his desk makes him pause because he knows who it’s from and almost hates that it’s there. 

His girlfriend… maybe still girlfriend had put food and mini apple pies on his desk . His insides turn with shame because he’s hungry and can’t remember the last time he ate. He takes a seat as the door opens and Drew comes in and turns on the light. 

“T’,”Drew started looking at him. Sweaty, face flushed and read the page in his hand as if it would break him not to do so. 

_ There could be enough to make it better, if you let it. _

“T’? You alright?”

TC shook his head, “No.”

Drew’s eyes widened as he began to eat, bitter and rough, choking it down like a punishment. 

“What is it?”

“I’m fucked up,” he said. “I’m just fucked up.”

Drew let out a breath and sat on the edge of his desk to pat his shoulder, “We all are, but we’d be even more fucked up for not trying to get better.”

His lips twitched wryly, “You’ve been talking to Mom.”

“A psychiatrist, actually,” Drew said earning TC looking up at him. 

And he can’t do anything but stand and hug Drew, closing his eyes and letting out a harsh breath, “That’s awesome, Drew.”

Drew squeezed him back and nodded before they move to leave TC’s office and head back to work. 

He and Halle don’t speak for the next few days while the police come in and out to get whatever they needed from the doctors and leave. TC feels something creeping towards him from a distance, like an inevitability when he’s stopped on the way to the locker room by Jordan the next afternoon before shift. 

“Is there something you need, Jordan?”

“Come with me,” she said and TC does, not willing to argue right now. He was gripping his thermos like a lifeline at the moment and really just wanted to change and make it to his office to do whatever paperwork someone had for him to do. He was off surgery rotation, per Scott, so all that was left really was cold and flu that the new residents were covering.

They step inside her office as Jordan begins to speak, “Ragosa and Scott aren’t happy at the moment. They’re strategizing on how to smooth things over with the Board Reps so it doesn’t look too bad.”

“Why not just let me talk to them?” He asked. “I don’t have a problem with them firing me.”

She blinked, “That is the threat isn’t it?”

“That’s Scott’s threat, the reps haven’t said anything about it yet.”

He snorted, of course not. They’d probably documented the whole thing in their notes and put it on his name on the list of people to fire. No need to warn him beforehand, no need to do it before the audit was over either—they may need a bigger case against him. 

“I think that you should take a break.”

“There aren’t enough breaks in the world to fix what’s wrong with me,” TC said, drinking from his thermos only to realize that it was empty, he hadn’t put anything in it, just carrying it around for the weight to ground him since he was decidedly not talking to Halle.

She groaned, rolling her eyes, “Really TC?”

“At least here I can get paperwork done. There’s nothing that break will do for me, Jordan. There’s nothing for me to focus on—”

“We both know what it’s like when you’re focused,” she said and it comes out uglier than it’s meant to. 

Maybe, but TC isn’t really sure considering their history. They’d had some pretty ugly fights over the years, but hearing that tone in Jordan’s voice when they were supposed to be talking about work made him wonder if Jordan was quite aware of the distinction.

“What’s so wrong with being focused?” TC asked. “Focused on something other than my past?”

“What’s so wrong with taking a break? You ignore everything when you’re like this!” TC looked at her, “Focused on one thing you ignore everything else and look where it gets you.”

TC swallowed, he deserved that. He knew what he was like when he got focused. How he didn’t hear anything, see anything beyond what he was doing. How it had ruined things between them… and may be ruining things between him and Halle. He winced at the shot of nausea that went through him. He wasn’t sure if he could handle losing Halle because of this… but could he blame her?

“I’m not talking as Jordan right now, but as your boss.” TC raised an eyebrow at her because she sounded like Jordan, not the shift lead. And if that was the case, shouldn’t this message have come from Scott, his actual supervisor, or Ragosa?

“Rather than let them fire you or let you continue working, I’ve arranged a probation for you.”

He snorted, “Probation?”

“You have plenty of vacation time owed to you, so I’ve had HR put you on leave.”

“You?” He asked giving her a leveling look. She looked away.

“It was a suggestion that I felt was practical and a hell of a lot better than getting you let go.”

TC nodded, expecting it. He could guess who’d given her the suggestion from the look on her face. A low-level reluctance and resentment. He knew what things had been like during a crisis when he was gone for just a week, depending on how long the probation was, he could only guess the scenarios that Jordan was running in her mind… How much trouble this would cause her…

_ Halle _ , he thought, his stomach twisting. Or Landry maybe, but knowing that Halle had access to a lot more than what NPRs were allowed in terms of scheduling and PTO, Halle was the more likely option even if Landry had backed her up on it. 

TC tilted his head as she handed him the official notice, “Ragosa didn’t really want to pay you out for all the vacation time you’ve racked up, if you were fired.”

He snorted taking the page and standing. Classic Jordan. Jordan stepped in front of him cutting him off from leaving just yet. 

“Yes, Jordan?”

“Don’t think of it as a punishment,” she said. “Think of it as a gift to be away from here for a while.”

He stepped around her and into the hall with the page in his hand. His first move is to go to his office, leave his pager in the desk and everything else. It feels a bit like when he was discharged, turning in all of his Ranger equipment, feeling the weight of it all coming off and letting the unfathomable mass of tangled emotions and thoughts expand and flourish again.

It isn’t Thad that comes to mind, surprisingly. It’s not the lieutenant who he left to die in Afghanistan. Oddly, it’s Annie and Teagan, his mother, and his family. It’s Drew and Gwaine...It’s Halle standing stock still as he walked around her and out of the door.

“They’re making you go home, huh?” Drew asked from the doorway. “I’ll be sure to split the proceeds with you.”

He laughed, “Thank you for adhering to the rules.”

“How long?”

“A month,” he said.

Drew hissed, “You’ve got that much paid vacation racked up?”

“And more,” TC said with a shrug. “Overtime.”

He nodded, “Ragosa’s probably pissed off at the thought of having to pay you out if you ever leave.”

He shrugged, Ragosa would live. 

“Before you go, though, I’m supposed to take you somewhere.”

TC snorted, following Drew towards a hospital room and watching him knock. James is sitting up in bed, still bandaged up, but his little girl is sitting in his lap, a head full of curly hair and skin like poured caramel. 

“Vasquez family, this is Dr. Callahan,” Drew said bringing him into the room. 

The woman in her thirties maybe older stood and went to him, hugging him tightly before he could react.

“ _ Thank you _ ,” she said softly. “ _ Thank you so much. _ ”

He smiled at that and nodded, squeezing her back, “Just doing my job, ma'am. How is the man of the hour?”

James grinned, “Alive… thanks to you. They say I’ll make a full recovery with enough bed rest.”

TC shook his hand firmly and accepted the box and hug that the little girl offered him.

“Thank you for saving my daddy,” she said. “Best birthday present ever!”

The woman laughed, “Yes, he won’t be heading back to work for quite a while, enjoying a nice long dose of fun time with Maria.”

She grinned and TC nodded, “That’s awesome. Be sure to make him watch all the movies and sit on the couch.”

She nodded excitedly, “We’re gonna eat fancy pizza at least three times a week.”

He grinned giving the girl a high five because that was the best plan he’d ever heard. He wouldn’t be back before James was released, but he wished them the best before leaving and walking towards the front of the ER where most of the team stood clapping as he entered, whooping and catcalling a small cake on the counter that said “Counting the Days”. He shook his head at the theatrics.

“You have to teach me how to stitch like that,” Krista said giving him a hug. “When you get back of course.”

He grinned, “If I could remember I would.”

She nudged him, “Don’t be like that.”

Halle cut the cake and left before he has a chance to realize that she’d slipped in and out, picking up her charts and rushing off to surgery.His gut churns and his feet point him towards the exit, though his head is screaming to go after her. Luckily, he doesn’t have the chance to potentially make it worse. Jayden looked at him, holding out a slice of cake to him, but not releasing it as she held his gaze.

“You come back understand? There’d better be sexy pictures in a magazine somewhere soon.”

He laughed, giving her hug, “Take care of her?”

“Of course,” she said. “When you get grounded again, she’ll still be there.”

He nodded shakily before eating the cake he’d been given and walking out into the open wind and to his bike. The month looming ahead of him as he climbed onto his bike and put on his helmet, giving one last look at San Antonio Memorial before directing his bike out of the parking lot and down the road. He stops at the bar he used to frequent, gets on a barstool and smiles at the bartender whom he’d fucked just once in a drunken haze.

“Well aren’t you a sight for sore eyes,” she said leaning over the bar. “What’ll it be handsome?”

He smiled at her, “Cider, Woodchuck if you’ve got it.”

“Coming up,” she said turning to grab a glass and fill it from the tap before sliding it to him and accepting the cash he handed over. 

He watched the foam fizzle out for a while bringing the glass to his lips and swallowing. 

_ A month… _

Probation for a  _ month _ …

When he finishes the drink he thanks her and she seems shock that he only had the one glass of cider. He’s surprised he doesn’t have at least a shot, if not another glass. But he doesn’t have a taste for alcohol, he doesn’t have a taste for anything…

Except maybe some pot pie… 

Or steak and pancakes…

Or—

_ Fuck _ , he thought climbing onto his bike with a growl, before driving himself back to The Broadway. When he arrives, it doesn’t take long to realize that what he wants isn’t here. There’s no alcohol in the place and he doesn’t really want any. So he grabs his headphones, changes into his tennis shoes and goes downstairs to the gym and gets on the treadmill and runs until he can’t feel his legs. When he leaves the gym it’s hours later and he has to stumble his way to the elevator and into the condo, crashing on the couch with a groan and an empty feeling because  _ fuck _ , who knew if Halle would ever speak to him again.

*

Jayden wished that Halle had less healthy coping mechanisms for stress, it would make her look a little better. When Jayden got stressed, she wanted frozen yogurt by the ton… When Halle got stressed she signed up for dance classes, made appointments, jumped rope, baked and planned. Right now, she was negotiating something for someone over the phone, It had been all of three days into TC’s probation and everyone had begun to feel it…More importantly, people realized that the usual exchanges between TC and Halle had vanished and a bit of the levity of the shift that kept them going on dead nights went with him.

“So are they fighting?” One of the nurses asked. “Or did he just finally get tired of her?”

Jayden looked up as Sindia stared in utter shock that anyone would even ask that question considering the circumstances. It wasn’t as if those closest to the two didn’t know that every minute away from San Antonio Memorial could lead to TC coming to his senses and going somewhere else.

“None of your business,” Jayden said. 

The woman sneered at her and then came Kenny. 

“Hey, I’ve noticed Hal’s been kind of down lately. She okay?”

“Why not ask her if you were concerned?” Jayden asked looking at him. 

“I don’t wanna step on any toes—”

“You’re stepping on mine,” she said. Molly snickered at her side. 

“Why you gotta be like that Jayden? I’m just trying to look out for her.”

“Look out for…”Jayden repeated, slowly.

“You know TC has a reputation—”

“One, you need to stay out of people’s business,” Jayden said, stacking papers. “My girl, don’t need you to look out for her. Two, that was still some punk ass shit to say… Call yourself a fucking friend? Get the fuck out of here with that fuckboy bull shit.”

His jaw dropped, “Damn… Jayden you didn’t have to—“

“I did, I do, and I will continue to do so until you grow a fucking pair. More importantly, let Halle hear you say that ignorant shit and watch how nice you’ll think I’m being.”

She turned then, taking her charts and leaving the nurse’s station. Kenny kind of shell-shocked, Molly snickering, and Sindia shaking her head.

“You would think you would have learned by now…”

Kenny huffed and left the station as well. 

Jayden found Halle sitting outside, eating lunch and staring into the night, maybe doing a little soul searching or just trying not to think before sitting down and stealing half her sandwich… The fact that she said nothing meant that whatever was said between them was weighing more heavily than usual. 

“Alright,” Jayden started, “Get to talking.”

Halle looked at her briefly, registering that Jayden had the other half of her lunch in her hand and somehow… not caring. Especially since she didn’t seem to have much of an appetite in the first place. 

“Think… maybe… I did a thing.”

“A thing?” Jayden asked. “You’re going to have to be more specific.”

“A not thinking thing,” she said shaking her head. “We saw each other at the Medical Conference… and he was there to hear my speech.”

“Uh huh…and?”

“I think… perhaps he thinks part of our relationship is tied up in my research.”

Jayden hissed, “Boyfriend for study?”

“Yeah…”she said with a sigh. “I’m not sure if there’s a story there or not, but either way my fault for not telling him.”

“And…that’s all?”

She sighed, “You know that six steps forward and twelve steps back….”

Jayden nodded, “So what are you going to do? Kenny’s looking out for you.”

Halle snorted, “Kenny can’t look out for himself.”

Jayden laughed and took a bite earning Halle’s glare, “My dinner. Get your own.”

“Already eating it,” she said, taking another bite. “And this… is really good. What kind of cheese is this? You got soup to go with it?”

“Gruyere,” she said and handing her a small thermos. “Tomato Basil.”

“Aw yeah, homemade, thank you.”

Halle shook her head as Jayden, as she was one to do, dipped the other end of the sandwich into the thermos and ate. 

“I’ve left the door open,” Halle said. “He needs time to figure things out… cool off if you will.”

“Meanwhile, you’re playing Wonder Woman to keep distracted?”

Halle grimaced, “Something like that.”

“Well…. Godspeed,” she said finishing the half of sandwich with a shrug. “Can you tell people to stop asking me about your relationship with TC?”

She grinned, “Tired of being the holder of all gossip?”

“May have to punch someone,” Jayden said. “In true TC fashion…. Starting with Kenny.”

Halle shook her head and sighed looking out into the night. 

*

He’s running. Not for fitness or anything, just to clear his mind, like he used to when he hit a wall in his research, his recorder on and talking himself through miles at a time. He’d run a lot when he’d come back after Thad’s death, but it hadn’t helped, when he and Jordan would argue… After he was discharged, he just couldn’t… Couldn’t think of a reason that he should be able to distract himself from all the thoughts and memories… That and the way he ran at full speed made him think of running for his life. But today, he goes running before going to his meet-up with local veterans at the coffee shop. A therapist meets them there for every meeting and it’s as close to a real therapy session as anyone at the table is comfortable with. He’d tried the group sessions and he’d backed out almost immediately before being directed to the coffee shop.  It helped that the licensed therapist was also a veteran and didn’t draw attention to his degree or the reason they were all there.

_ So I run and hide. Start again… With a brand new name—A brand new name! _

He’d found this particular band while listening to Pandora… 30 Seconds To Mars and Avenged Sevenfold probably shouldn’t have been on the same station, but he didn’t question it as they captured his attention: musically, intellectually… emotionally. 

_ Your promises…. They look like lies… _

When he started running again, he didn’t think about it, about how much of his reimagined playlist had been rock music. There are of course some old favorites, but they’d invaded his playlist with an aggressiveness that he hadn’t imagined… To make matter worse, they were usually the best runs he had.

_ Under the burning sun, I take a look around. Imagine if this all came down? _

_ I’m waiting for the day to come.  _

He turned the corner leading toward the coffee shop. It was early enough that there was hardly anyone on the street so he could run as fast as he wanted, practically unhindered. 

He doesn’t even realize that’s he’s run to the coffee shop and it’s almost time for the meet up when he stops at the front door of the Tough Luck Café. The sign on the door, next to the “Open” sign says that “Jarheads, Squids, Zoomies, Devil Dogs, Coasties, Greens, Bullet Sponges, and all other manner of Ground Pounders always drink free.” 

He walked in and to the bar with a smile to the woman manning the machine. 

“The master barista herself!” He greeted.

She rolled her eyes, “The usual?”

“Yeah, thanks. How goes the business?”

“Well enough,” she said as she set about making his tea. 

“Yo, T!” He turned to see Timothy with someone else in tow. “Good to see you.”

“Can’t miss the chance to talk about the meaning of life with my favorite ground pounders,” he said before thanking her, tipping her and following them to the table that they always commandeered. 

“This is Cam’ my brother who’s an Admiral and therefore far above us.”

TC snort as Camden whacked Timothy over the head. They shook hands and corralled around the table as the rest of Timothy’s brothers who were state-side and a few other veterans began to  trickle in, grabbing coffee or tea and coming to join them. There was usually no structure to these things, just a sort of talk, catch up, talk shit, and chill out with a bunch of people in the same struggle as you, but today is different. It’s beginning of the month so their impromptu therapist was off being an actual therapist for the VA.

“April birthdays anyone?” Damien asked.

“No we are not giving you a reason to turn up,” Timothy said. “Turn all the way down.”

“April 20 th ,” TC said with a conspiratorial grin. “And I’m officially on extended, more force than choice, leave from work.”

“ _ WHAT? _ ” The group of them gasped.

TC nodded, “Had a… serious trip down memory lane while treating a patient who was shot in the doorway of the ER…”

“How long?” Camden asked.

“A month,” he said. “And I may have screwed things up with my girlfriend on the way out…at least I’m getting paid to wallow in my misery.”

“Well… since your life sucks at the moment—turn up seems to be the best option.”

They gave Damien a look that TC had only ever gotten from Thad, who’d been nearly impossible to get out to party. 

“Since you’re on leave, the 20 th is coming up, and you ain’t got shit to do… I will gladly take over the planning of the turn up of your lifetime.”

TC laughed, “I doubt it.”

“I’ll even be the designated driver.”

The brother looked at Damien in shock, “What the hell is wrong with you?”

“Are you dying? Is this on your bucket list?”

“Did the doctor tell you that you had six months left to live?”

“TC, I think you should examine his head, perhaps he hit at some point today.”

“No fools, it’s a kind gesture. Just as well there is Uber.”

Camden let out a breath, “Panic averted.”

“Never want to be the designated driver, always need a pick up, always need to be stopped from his fifteenth drink Damien over here trying to be a designated driver?” Timothy shook his head. “That sounded like a disaster waiting to happen.”

“Really? Y’all going to do me like that? Thought we were brothers.”

“We are,” Camden said. “Which is why we shouldn’t lie to you.”

TC laughed and found himself agreeing to whatever shenanigans Damien wanted to plan for his birthday. TC gathered there would be a club, maybe a strip club and a whole lot of drinking involved. Gwaine told him that he’d already made plans with Merlin for his birthday.

“We’ll find some time, it’ll be great,” Damien said with a grin. 

“I’m trusting you,” TC said.

“Don’t know why,” Camden said. “He ain’t trustworthy.”

“Ouch.”

*

Halle melts a little in Benjamin’s arms, squeezing him tightly before coming in the house to greet the rest of her brothers who were up at the crack of dawn as usual. Timothy Sr. was in the kitchen cooking. It’s her day off so she can actually come with a full night’s sleep under her belt.

Camden squeezed her the tightest, “Good to see you, potato.”

“Good to see you too, beanstalk,” she grinned. “How’s your mom?”

“Good, wants me to come visit more often, though.”

“Don’t we all,” Halle said letting him go and heading into the kitchen where her father was standing at the stove, the coffee pot brewing behind him.

“Morning,” he greeted kissing her cheek. “Could I convince you to make some of those Martin pancakes?”

She shook her head, “I see what this is about, you just want me for the pancakes?”

He laughed and squeezed her, telling her that he would make biscuits. 

“That’s my recipe too.”

He laughed, but as she was going to be eating with them, she didn’t disagree. It was a novel experience to be up cooking with her Dad and her brothers talking about being back home, in pseudo-therapy and this crazy guy that meets with them every week and tells all these crazy stories about being an army medic. 

It makes her gut twist a little because it sounds like TC and they haven’t talked since their argument and it’s just like TC to go running around the city like a crazy person when he couldn’t sit still with his thoughts. 

“We about to turn up on 4/20. I took the day off.”

“Just don’t end up in jail on your day off,” Timothy Sr. said.

“I won’t. We’re taking Uber.’

“Jesus,” he said. “Keep him near the cross.”

Halle laughed, “Jesus wants no part of this.”

“Cam’s coming too,” Benjamin said with a grin as Camden drank his tea.

“Double Jesus.”

*

Maybe it’s Rick’s presence that does it. He’d been staying with Drew since they’d had their conversation. There when Drew got back from shift, there to cuddle up to and breathe easy as they talk. Little by little Drew tells him about Luke and Pamela, things that they didn’t talk about before.

It feels good that Rick is accepting of the darkest parts of his past. It’s enough to make Elizabeth’s angry voicemails, Luke and Pamela’s angry voicemails unimportant. He’s invited TC, Gwaine, Lily and Aedan over for dinner to meet Rick and it feels like it’s supposed to… like family and love even while TC and Gwaine make it a point to be as charming as possible while asking the most invasive questions. 

“So are you two fucking again yet?” Gwaine asked earning TC’s grin. Lily almost choked on her water, Rick laughed, and Drew flushed so dark they think he’s overheating.

“ _ Gwaine _ ,” he growled. “What part of  _ behave _ don’t you understand?”

“I understand the word, I just don’t think it applies to me.”

Leave it to Gwaine to be so honest. And leave it to TC not to stop him. They don’t answer, but it hardly matters and Drew feels better by the day. So, maybe it is the fact that his personal life is looking up, his fears pretty much assuaged and he’s happy that does it.

Drew came out of surgery, walking towards the nurse’s station when Sindia appeared before him to tell him that his parents and Elizabeth are there. 

“What should we tell them?”

Drew shrugged, “What do they want?”

“To talk to you… they brought people with them.”

Drew let out a breath, “I’ll talk with them.”

Sindia’s eyes widened and then she smiled, placing a gentle hand on his shoulder, “May the warm fuzzies be with you.”

He laughed and walked towards the desk to hear Elizabeth’s biting tone at the nurse before clearing his throat to get their attention. 

“Stop terrorizing my colleagues,” Drew said plainly looking at the three of them standing in front of the desk. 

Elizabeth looked at him and opened her mouth to speak.

“I have about ten minutes,” he said, turning. “So follow me.”

Her eyes narrowed and she marched ahead of him as he turned to go the opposite direction, not towards the conference room where they’d been before or a triage room. The three of them glared at him as he kept walking not even bothering to turn back and see if they were following him. He opened the door to an empty closet, shut the blinds and leaned against the door.

“What do you want?” He asked looking between the three of them. 

“You’re making this difficult, just like always Andrew,” Elizabeth said. “Dad’s court case is coming up soon, and I need to prep you.”

She pulled sheets of paper out of her bag and extended it towards Drew, “Sign these certifying that--”

“I’m not signing anything,” Drew said looking at her and then to Luke and Pamela who are watching him. “And if that’s what you came for then you can go.”

“Andrew,” Pamela started. “We know we made some mistakes, but if we hadn’t left you, you wouldn’t be the man you are today. Don’t you think that deserves so gratitude?”

Drew chuckled, surprising himself, because the terror that had been plaguing him since they entered his life is gone, leaving only a cold rage. 

“We’re sorry for being human, Andrew,” Luke said. “But you’re still our son, you owe me this much.”

“Ruptured lung,” Drew said looking at them. “Fractured leg. Blood loss. Staph infection, broken arm, lacerations to the torso and legs. Blunt force trauma and severe malnutrition. A three-week coma leading to severe anxiety and depression that cannot be medicated.”

Luke frowned as Drew continued, “Abandoned at four years old.”

“Don’t be such a drama queen,” Elizabeth said. “You were a fucking klutz.”

Drew didn’t even look at her meeting Luke’s eyes that were mirror images of his own.

“We don’t expect you to forgive our mistakes, Andrew,” Pamela said. “We’re only asking for a chance.”

“You’re asking me to lie for you,”Drew said. “You’re  _ threatening _ me to lie for you so this sorry excuse of a human being doesn’t have to go to jail.”

Pamela’s eyes narrowed, “You don’t get to speak to your father that way.”

“I don’t have a father,” Drew countered. “ _ Remember? _ ”

Luke’s fist tightened and Drew watched the beginning of that old familiar rage begin before easing slightly as he grits his teeth and spoke.

“No matter who had adopted you, or how well you’re doing for yourself,” Luke said. “I raised you.”

He isn’t sure how it happened, just that there’s a pulse of pain in his fist from where it’s connected to Luke’s face. The older man went crashing to the ground with a cry of pain and Pamela advanced. Drew caught her hand and glared at her.

“I’m not four anymore,” Drew said pushing her back. She tugged at her hand. “I am not your son.”

She pulled harder as Luke stood, dazed and flushed red with anger, advancing on Drew. Before he can open his mouth, before he can raise his hand, Drew swung again, watching him crash to the floor and Pamela opened her mouth to sneer at him. 

“You want to know how I know you’re full of it,” Drew said glaring at them. “You didn’t even apologize.”

Luke huffed getting up and glaring at Drew, “You little shit… you broke my nose.”

“You deserve a lot more than that,” he said coldly. “But you aren’t worth it.”

Luke stood and Drew looked at them, “I’m going to leave this room and this will be the last time any of you will come looking for me.”

“It’s not that simple,” Elizabeth said. 

“Blackmail, harassment,” he said. “I don’t think that would look too good for you,  _ esquire _ . Aren’t you trying to become a D.A.?”

She growled, “This isn’t over, Andrew.”

“It is,” he said and turned. “And it’s Drew.”

He left, closing the door behind him, walking out of the room and towards the nurse’s station, taking a deep breath and going back to work. When they come out of the room, they get Luke’s face treated, Sindia is kind enough to even use anesthesia as she sets his nose and gives him an ice pack before processing him out.

In the morning, he arrives at his condo. The smell of Thai take-out in the air and Rick is wheeling himself out of the kitchen.

“Hey,” Rick said as Drew set his bag down and walked towards him. “How was work?”

“I punched him,” he said. “Twice and I told them to never come looking for me again.”

Rick blinked, a little surprised as Drew, pulled the brake on his wheelchair and straddled his lap to wrap his arms around his neck and kiss him. He’s trembling in his arms and clinging to Rick. 

“You’re amazing, Drew,” he said into the curve of his neck, squeezing him tightly.

For the first time, in a long time, Drew feels it.


	19. Setting Fire To The Sky,

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Drama cont'd and things get better for some people.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My goodness everyone, I'm so sorry! We haven't had internet for two weeks (stupid Comcast!) and that's really thrown a huge wrench in my writing plans. I am still striving for the end of August but that may not happen. We'll see. 
> 
> Seems like I'll be pumping out thousands upon thousands of words for the next... three days. :(

“Club went up on a Monday,” Damien said coming into the kitchen as she sat at the bar and drank her tea.

Halle chuckled seeing exactly how tired he looked, no matter how bright his smile was.

“No,” said a chorus of male voices, Halle knew to be a large percentage of her brothers, still nursing whatever they’d gotten up to the day before at the table.

“It did, though.”

“No,” Camden said sitting at the table. “I’m too old for this.”

“That’s a lie,” Damien said as Halle came in to survey the disaster that were her brothers.

“How was your 4-20?” She asked, with a slight tilt to her lips.

“Turned up,” Damien said. “All the way and shut down!”

“And for the normal folks?” Halle asked sitting at the table beside Camden.

“Hey! Don’t be like that. I wasn’t even the one all turned up…”

“Someone was more turned up than you?” She asked, surprised.

“I know! I didn’t expect white boy to be able to hang like that though.”

“The guy from your meeting?”

“TC and God did me a solid,” Damien said. “Made his birthday 4-20.”

Halle nodded sagely, smiling at the group who groaned, probably reliving the insanity that had been their 4-20.

“Jesus don’t want no part of that,” Benjamin told him with a laugh.

“So you know we had to do it right. Drank a whole lot… TC drank at least half a bottle of whiskey by himself. Blazed up—didn’t expect white boy to be able to handle both… Partied… _ hard _ .”

She smiled tilting her head, “I see.”

“You know him right?”

“Yeah, I know him,” she said. “Glad to hear he’s taking advantage of his paid vacation.”

“How was your 4-20?” Damien asked. “Did you light up for the Martin who ain’t here no more?”

She rolled her eyes, “Yes in a sense, did more orchestrating and supplying than actually blazing.”

“Halle…” Camden started.

“You supply?” Damien asked. “Cause I’m looking for a new weed man… my last one got caught up in the system.”

Halle snorted, “Research.”

“Right… you need a test subject?”

“No,” she said. “But thanks.”

She smirked listening to Damien tell her exactly how turned up TC could get. She’d had a feeling, but there was nothing wrong with confirmation. He’d gotten into a fight at a club, beat the dude down, let security carry him out and went on partying with another round of shots. Went to a 24/7 place with all of her brothers and nearly put the place out of business while high.

“It was a buffet,” Damien defended. “Not my fault they weren’t prepared? Who leaves the buffet open on 4-20?”

“I couldn’t even hang,” Damien said with a shake of his head. “Partying with TC’s going to have to be a once a year event I train for.”

Halle shook her head, trying not to laugh. Perhaps she should have dropped him off a cure for a hangover as well…

*

TC doesn’t remember the last time he’d woken up… and everything hurt. The ends of a hangover are clinging to him, he feels like he’d run several marathons in a row and all in all he’s pretty sure he should stick to light food and darkness for the rest of the day….

But damn had it been fun. 

The doorbell rang long and almost obnoxious in his ears before he manages to stumble his way to the door.

“Coming!” He yelled through the rawness in his throat…. Yelling over club speakers all night probably hadn’t been the best decision.

“Who is it?” he rasped.

“Security. There was a package left at the desk yesterday for you, Dr. Callahan.”

He frowned and opened the door. The woman in the security uniform extended the package to him. Brightly wrapped with a happy birthday card attached to the top of it. 

“Thanks,” he said, carrying it inside. It wasn’t particularly heavy, but it was of a good size and made him wonder what could possibly be in it. He set the box down and tugged the card off. 

Before reading the words, he recognized the handwriting. 

_ Halle, _ he thought, closing the card and setting it on top of the package, his stomach churning with something that wasn’t alcohol related nausea. 

She had a key, free license to come up and drop it off or give it to him in person…but she hadn’t and that made him nervous. Rather than open the box immediately, or actually read the card, he stood up and walked to the kitchen to make something to eat. After more than 24 hours of “turning up”, he probably needed it.

“TC, you here?” He turned to see Gwaine half naked standing in the doorway to the kitchen with the kind of grin that said he’d been doing very naughty things all night.

“You look like college, mixed with a rave, having sex with an apple.”

TC laughed, “Yeah… I bet. Went out on a turn up as high as you can on 4-20 extravaganza with some vets.”

“The ones from the coffee shop?” He asked moving to make coffee. 

“Yeah.”

*

“Oh my god, it’s my favorite beautiful person!” She cheered, as he walked in and he caught her as she leaped at him, careful to spin around and set her back down. 

“Hello, lovely,” he said, spinning her around, “You’re looking good, your girlfriend giving you a workout, huh?”

She whacked him in the shoulder and twined their arms together before walking with him away from the train station towards the car that awaited them. New York smells the way it always did, like people too busy to think and exhaust. 

Alex speaks her usual million miles a second, filling him in on her life and prying information out of him as they ride towards the headquarters. She gets out, twining her arm around him and pulling him along and to the elevator. When they reach the modeling floor, it’s as busy as he remembered.

“TC?”

“Back off, vultures! He’s mine!” Alex said, waving her hands in front of them and pushing him along towards her chair. He laughed as the pouted.

“Not fair!”

“Early bird gets the worm!” She said, sticking out her tongue and getting him into her chair. Nothing has changed since before and he’s glad for it as the photographer comes over to hug him and tell him what would be going on.

They wanted various states of dress and as he looked around the rooms, he recognized a few faces from various conferences. Calvin Klein was doing a promotion specifically for people in the medical field. Doctors who were rather prominent in their fields, a few people who’d graduated from John Hopkins with him. He greeted them, shook their hands and chatted as Alex got him up and towards the wardrobe rack where she had his clothes already picked out. He wasn’t surprised at all considering that Alex had pleaded and pleaded with him for months to get him here and when he’d agreed there was no way she didn’t have everything laid out for him. The wardrobe was pretty simple. A suit, some casuals, and of course underwear.

“We’ll have to do an inspection, however,” Alex said. “Don’t know if all that late night insanity has made you soft.”

TC laughed, throwing his head back and she grinned, missing the ease of their friendship as he began to take off his jacket, then his shirt and undershirt with no shame. 

“Do I pass?” He asked.

She nodded and circled him with a hum, “Seems like you’ve been working out… working on your tan too?”

“Just for you,” he said with a laugh.

“You really do love me!” She beamed. “Alright, let’s make sure everything fits and then we’ll get started!”

He laughed at her, glad that she was so very excited for the shoot, not that he wasn’t as well, but Alex always had a way of being inexhaustible when it came to her profession. It was a welcome change from the normal pace of the hospital. The rush of the modeling floor was always different. There were group pictures, stethoscopes provided, and of course lab coats in the shoot. When they got to the underwear portion, Alex was sure to make John Hopkins colors be the ones they painted him in. It’s a long day in various states of dress, of smiling sometimes, of giving the camera the sexiest look in his repertoire. 

When Alex, leans against her makeup table as he got dressed he had a feeling that she was about to ask him for a little more than he agreed to, the way she always did.

“So… how long are you not busy for? Next week open?”

He looked at her, “Going to tell me why?”

“Well… the big guys would like to invite you to be one of the main faces of the campaign for the military promotion… since you know… you did serve…”

He looked at her and then shrugged, “Sure.”

Her eyes widened and he has a feeling that she wants to ask him why he’s agreed, how he had time to be here, but she doesn’t. In true Alex fashion, she smiled kindly and squeezed him tight, “TC, mon cher, you’re the best.”

It would just be a little bit longer that he would have to think about how to fix things with Halle. Maybe long enough to dodge the point where Alex would start prying too.

If he was lucky.

*

“Halle,” Jayden said as she came to the nurse’s station. She stopped as Jordan rounded the corner and Jayden nodded to the screen where the commercial was playing. 

Halle paused watching the end of the commercial to see TC, painted in camouflage and wearing a pair of black underwear, dog tags around his neck and looking into the camera, his face split down the center and spliced with a woman’s in a similar state of undress wearing her dog tags the same way.

“You know when I told him there should be sexy advertisements, I didn’t think he’d listen to me.”

Halle laughed, “Looks like Alex got him to commit.”

“You knew?”

She nodded, they’d exchanged messages… Or rather, TC had emailed her to tell her to thank her for the gift and that he would be in New York a few days after his birthday to model for CK’s medical promotion, then another week for the military promotion. It had been tentative, letting her know so if she came by there wouldn’t be any confusion as to where he was. He also seemed to be a tad freaked out by what she thought of him still modeling, though he clearly didn’t need the money.

“He’s still doing that?” Jordan said and looking at Halle. “You’re letting him?”

Halle laughed, “Let? He’s a grown man.”

“I… just don’t understand how you’re okay with it. Doesn’t it bother you? It’s not like he’s modeling for the money.”

Halle snorted. Jordan said that as if San Antonio paid as well as John Hopkins or any other well-known hospital. She knew that TC modeled for other reasons, favors for friends, a change of pace, but the thought that the extra paycheck wouldn’t help get down student debts if he had them was ludicrous. He also just enjoyed it and, according to her mother, it was best to make money doing what you love if you could.

“Of course not.”

Jordan seemed surprised by that answer, but there wasn’t much that Halle had to say about TC that didn’t seem to surprise the woman, so she didn’t think about it. Jayden ducked out as Halle went back to finishing her report on the tablet. Jordan frowned and stopped her in the hallway. At the back of her mind, she hears her mother telling her once again that this conversation was going to be about TC, about their relationship, and about his past with Jordan… It was going to be about some assumption that Jordan just couldn’t keep to herself.

Of course, that voice was also telling her to verbally break her face so these conversations would stop happening, but she didn't let that change her tone.

“You two broke up, didn’t you?”

Halle’s eyes widened at her question.  _ There it is. _

“I don’t think that’s any of your business,” she said.

Jordan laughed, “Well, either way, aren’t you concerned?”

“About…?” Halle asked waiting for an explanation. “He looks good in high-end underwear.”

“I don’t know how much you know about his modeling days,” Jordan said. “I just remember him being rather friendly with his make-up artist and a lot of the women who were staffed with him.”

Halle regarded her, letting the words tumble around with Jordan’s expression, what she knows of Jordan and peering through the slits in her words to figure out what Jordan was trying to allude to before tilting her head. 

Jordan thought TC was a cheater.

She laughed. “Who he’s friendly with has nothing to do with you.”

She blinked.

“Is there anything else, Dr. Alexander?”

“I’m just concerned,” Jordan reasoned. “It’s not like I don’t know how he can be.”

“Your concern is coming down the hall,” Halle said kindly and walked around her, forcing Jordan to turn and the words die in her throat as she saw Scott coming down the hallway.

Halle turned the corner and pondered Jordan’s words before slowing to a stop and frowning. Her eyes widening as pieces came together. Something niggling at the back of her mind about questions she hadn’t ever had a chance to TC. About TC’s reaction to things... Her phone rang.

“Hello?” She asked. “Halle Martin.”

The voice chuckled, “Hello, bella, how are you?”

She grinned, “I’m on shift, Ev’.”

He hissed, “Driving you crazy huh? Any chance I can claim a piece of your schedule, next week? I’ll be in town… Lunch? Or… midnight snack in your case?”

“Sounds good. Let me know where and I’ll meet you there, sounds good?”

“Bene.”

She hung up with a laugh before continuing down the hall and somehow striding through the week. She’d seen all the commercials TC had been in, had the magazine shoved in her face several times, yet hadn’t felt much about it. She knew he looked good in his underwear and wondered how much of the merchandise he would be bringing home.

_ I’m back in town… going to sleep for at least three days. Alex is a slave driver. _

She smirked at the text,  _ Lucky. _

She went home, took a nap, and got dressed to head to the restaurant Evan suggested. He was waiting outside for her, on his phone and hanging up as soon as he saw her. He looked the way he always did: impeccable with all of his Italian charm showing through in his dark hair and smile. He looked as though he’d stepped out of a magazine, the kind where businessmen wore astronomically expensive suits and discussed multi-million dollar deals over imported coffee. He looked every bit the sales and acquisition guru that he was--down to the detailing on the inside of his suit jacket.

“ _ Bella _ ,” he greeted, eyeing her dress. “You wore this for me? I’m touched!”

She laughed, hugging him tightly, “I thought it best to not be outdone.”

“Never,” he said pulling the door open and ushering her inside. The hostess took them to the balcony seats where they could see out of the window and gave them menus. Per usual, Evan’s taste was impeccable and his humor still intact.  There was also something else in the way he spoke, maybe his body language that she wasn’t sure how to interpret given what she knew of Evan. She wrote it off as the time since the last time they’d seen each other and his general curiosity about how she’d been doing.

“So, what brings you to San Antonio?”

“Credne Technologies.”

She tilted her head as he pulled out a letter and handed it to her, “My boss told me that I was going to be meeting with the CEO of Credne Technologies, one very lovely Halle Martin...Thought it a good enough reason to get here earlier.”

She grinned, “Don’t think I’ll go easy on you.”

“I wouldn’t dream of it,” he grinned. “But how have you been?”

She looked out the window, catching sight of brunette hair that caught the sun’s rays carelessly, broad shoulders and squinted. It could have been him, or Gwaine, she wasn’t sure. It could have been anyone but since the figure didn’t look up, she couldn’t make sure. She considered texting him for a second, but being at the table, it would have been a tad rude and she still wasn’t sure where they stood. 

“I’ve been okay,” she said. “Still going to therapy, you know the drill.”

“How is she? Sensible?”

“Why? You looking for a therapist?”

“I have one,” he said with a chuckle before wiggling his fingers. “I’ve been assigned touch and proximity therapy this week and I don’t think I’ll make it back in time before I have to report.”

She laughed, “I guess I could save you from the wrath of your therapist.”

“Thank you, merciful angel.”

*

“Why did we agree to this again?” Seth asked with a sigh. 

“You agreed because you need it and I’m here because I also need it, we agreed because it’s not real therapy. Dance a little, pretend like you have some rhythm, and we report back. Like recon.”

Seth shoved him into the building and he laughed as he checked in and headed down the hall. 

“You doing alright?” Seth asked him. “Guys have been kind of wondering about you.”

“Yeah,” he said nodding. “Just um… getting used to not going to work.”

He snorted, “The probation will be over soon enough.”

TC laughed and sighed, if only that were true. The paperwork Jordan had given said a month, and all of two weeks later he received another letter from Ragosa stating that it would actually be closer to two months to try and run through all of his PTO and keep him away from the auditors as long as possible. Classic Ragosa, always one for the bottom line and trying to keep TC on a short leash.

The sound of a very distinct laughter makes his heart flip and he looked across the room to see her. Her long twists corralled into their usual braid. She wore a bright shirt, leggings, and salsa heels while talking to another woman and a man who can’t seem to stop looking at Halle. It’s not that he’s looking at her. It’s the way he’s looking at her like he’s a man who knows what she looks like on her knees and thinks he has a chance to get her there again. If he had to guess, maybe this guy was an old boyfriend, if not an old Dom. She’d only ever mentioned Evan, but given that Evan lived in a different time zone most of the time, he doubted this was him.

He doesn’t say anything until the woman wearing all black dance wear begins to walk into the center of the room and in general get everyone’s attention. The class is small. Small enough that it doesn’t take long for Halle to see him across the room. She smiled at him softly and he does his best to smile back while her male companion looked at him appraisingly, before leaning over to say something in her ear.  Halle nodded and replied but he was too far away to hear it and by then the instructor was telling them what they’d be doing. They would have a warm-up then there would be dancing. They stretched, Seth barely keeping his feet under him as he was not the most graceful person in the world out of water, and then did some basic dance moves before the instructor pulled Halle and her companion to the center of the floor for an example. The group was an evenly split between men and women, so everyone could trade partners easily during the session.

TC knows how to tango, learned it ages ago on a whim, so it isn’t hard to lead the women he’s been paired with across the dancefloor. What is hard is carrying on a conversation with them, when he honestly just wants to ask Halle a million questions, to grovel at her feet, and perhaps hold her and never let go. He isn’t sure when he takes his first partner and he damn isn’t sure when it’s Halle in his arms. 

TC swallowed thickly meeting her eyes and setting his jaw firm with silence. He isn’t sure what to say, what he can ask, what she’ll say and she’s in much of the same boat. When their palms meet, it feels like electricity racing up his arms and the look in her eyes says she’s recounting how long it’s been since they’ve been together privately, intimately. How long it’s been since they’ve talked, especially since their relationship had been built on consistent communication-- friendship and otherwise.

He moves, a step that should be too strong forward, which she follows in her dancing heels, easily, never breaking eye contact as he leads her around the room. He waits for the resistance, the break when he moves too fast and she can’t see where they’re going, but it doesn’t happen. Instead, she lets him spin her and pull her back against him. When she turns, challenging him, he finds that he follows her lead. Partially confused why his doubts and questions don’t trip him, but it’s absolutely beautiful. Relaxing in a way that he wasn’t sure it should be.

Evan knows that look in her eyes, full of questions, of words she can’t get out. Maybe ashamed of them, maybe waiting for the right time, he isn’t sure. Either way, their expressions match. When he spins her in and dips her, panting as she looked up at him, Evan thinks he may drop her, but she holds on by one hand and his arm around her waist, knees bent and looking at her.

It’s a smothering moment in which TC can only hear his heart thudding and the overwhelming need to kiss her, to say something while they’re staring at one another. He stands them both up slowly, settling her on her feet as her eyes continue to look at him. His mouth opened and her fingertips pressed against them to stop him. She offered him a smile and a kiss on the cheek before they have to switch partners again.

They don’t speak before the class disbands, but he watched Halle and her companion walk down to the front desk and check out. Seth, wisely, doesn’t ask about the intimate moment he had with Halle. Instead, he drops TC off in front of the Broadway to get cleaned up and changed to head to the Tough Luck Cafe where the group would meet and talk about him and Seth’s dancing adventure. 

“TC had a rather intimate moment with one of the constituents.”

“Oh?”

“My girlfriend,” TC said, flatly and they promptly changed the subject. 

Henry, taking control of the conversation as TC went to the bar to order his standard and return to sit quietly and listen to the others. Beneath the words, they’re talking about the kind of PTSD that has nothing to do with war. The  compulsion to repeat the adrenaline rush, the hurt, the suffering, whatever it is.

“It’s just,” someone started shaking his head. “I don’t know how to explain it.”

Someone suggested some sort of masochistic streak and while they chuckle, the sound has no humor in it. It sounds like the pained breath when a bullet cuts through your chest.  He looked down to his mug.  The heat billowed off the top, the cream swirled, and the smell of it made him think of their argument. Made him think of the last argument he’d had with Jordan, Landry’s words, his running playlist, and Halle… Halle… Halle. 

“It’s a beautiful lie,” TC said earning the attention of the small group as he stared into his tea. 

The therapist who was leading the discussion asked him to go on as he took a shuddering breath. 

“That it’s all your fault,” he said. “Makes it easier to avoid being hurt again… To admit that you’re hurt… Makes it easier to staying in the past, reliving it, because you already know how it ends. It’s a perfect denial of exactly how terrifying moving forward is.”

“Getting a little philosophical there, T’,” Damien said looking at him, trying to force a chuckle, but it doesn’t come out.

“It’s a rather philosophical song,” TC sighed. And he probably fucked it up by not chasing after her when they were in the foyer of the dance studio. Or emailing instead of calling, of texting much of nothing.

“She’s so…  _ strong _ , strong enough to let me find the truth myself...and I want to resent her for that… but I can’t.”

Because had she forced him to it, he wouldn’t have accepted it. He never had, there was something in him that had always resisted someone else giving him the answer. With school, with Jordan, with life and Landry… there had always been someone forcing the truth in his face when he wasn’t ready for it--when he didn’t want it. Perhaps, because it was too easy… perhaps because if someone gave him the answer it felt like he hadn’t suffered enough, he hadn’t mourned or fought for it himself and therefore it was worthless. He was a man, after all, who’d worked for everything he did and didn’t have at the moment, good or bad. 

His mother would just say it was the Irish stubbornness in him cursing anyone who said a word about taking the smoother road. 

“Who?”

“My girlfriend,” he said. “Who I have to grovel for forgiveness from.”

Nathan laughed, “That’s the fate of every man.”

TC nodded, finishing his drink before getting up and heading out to begin gathering the proper offerings of forgiveness. It’s an hour later, slipping into the evening when he heads her way. He knows from Drew that it’s her day off and from Jayden that she was at home doing “whatever Wonder Woman has to do on her day off”.

He cut the engine, walked his bike up her driveway and parked it. His stomach churning as he pulled the containers from the saddlebags and walked towards the front of her house. The front lights aren’t on, but he can see lights in the upstairs window and Halle wasn’t the type to leave her lights on at night.

To his left, he feels eyes on him, no doubt someone, her potentially nosy neighbors were peeking out of their windows, watching him as he did so and stilled his stomach. He’d never been so prepared to grovel in his life. He’d only groveled a few times before and honestly it felt more like a degrading act more for their ego than his own… It had certainly felt that way at least, but at the moment it just feels like one more thing he’s willing to do for her, completely no questions asked, no need to request it either, because he fucked up and there wasn’t anything he wouldn’t do to make it right. So he rung the doorbell and waited, taking deep breaths until he could hear her at the door. She didn’t ask who it was, merely peeked through the peephole before opening the door. 

He wants to drop the things in his hands and kiss her, tell her everything that’s been going through his head since he’d walked out of that room, since he’d seen her in the window of the restaurant with her companion, since he’d let her walk out of the dance studio without speaking a word between them. Wants to tell her how she looks like his nerdiest sex dreams in a shirt covered in equations and lines of binary code on the front. The caption below the strings of ones and zeroes said, “If you can’t understand this, you’re not nerdy enough.” She’s wearing sweatpants and the fuzziest socks he’s ever seen, her hair pulled into a high bun and anti-glare glasses perched on her face. She’s beautiful and it strikes him exactly how much he’s missed her. His insides are shaking with the need to touch her, hold her, kiss her, do anything but stand there feeling like an idiot.

He’s tense, she knows just from looking at the way he held his shoulders. He looked tired, like he’d been running around all day, his hands in his hair, fretting, tired rather than a lack of sleep. Wearing his comfortable riding jeans and a gray t-shirt, he looked anything but comfortable. His hair is longer, like he hasn’t cut it since he’s been on probation, but still styled from the commercials and all of the photos. It’s dizzying to think that it’s been weeks since she’d last spoken to him and the last time they saw each other they hadn’t said a word. He’s carrying a bag that smells like Tex-Mex from her favorite place in San Antonio and a small bouquet of flowers, artful, colorful. She registers that he’s there to apologize maybe, or break up with her or what have you… She’s been thinking, fretting, wanting to call him since the probation started, since the fight, since the dance but stopped herself every time. She knew TC. She knew what it meant to need space and just sort it all out. She knew TC wasn’t one to run away and he’d talk to her when he was ready, trying to make it earlier wouldn’t do either of them any favors. She’d left the door open with that note on his desk. She told him to be sure in the studio with a kiss to his cheek. She’d been prepared to apologize, to explain everything when he was ready to hear it.

What she isn’t prepared for is for him to get down on his knees before her. Her heart stuttered, her stomach turned and she felt a bit sick seeing him there.

“What are you doing?” she heard herself ask, her eyes wide and her stomach twisting with nausea.

“Groveling for being a jerk,” he said, a wry, trembling humor in his voice. “It usually involves knees on the ground and gifts of remorse.”

She set her trembling hands on his shoulders, “Get up.”

His brow furrowed looking up at her as her hands caressed his freshly shaved jaw, carded through his hair, her manicure scratching his scalp as she passed a hand through his hair.

“Get up,” she said again, a little more pleading. “I’m in a relationship with you, not a hierarchy. We talk, we compromise, we apologize, but we don’t grovel—ever. I’m sorry if I ever made you feel like you had to.”

He stared up at her as she tugged gently at his shoulders, telling him to stand up. His mind fried for just a moment. It’s not that she doesn’t want him to grovel, hell that wasn’t that surprising given the intricacies of their relationship. It’s the way she’d said it. 

_ We’re in a relationship _ , he thought.  _ Not a hierarchy. _

She’d been one of three women to see it as such and act accordingly in his life. The only woman to apologize for doing anything that remotely would have made groveling the only means of apologizing. His mother being one of them making only two of them being of the romantic variety. It’s refreshing, dizzying, and grounding all at once. It makes him wonder if perhaps this was also something they’d have to talk about. 

“Do you want to come in?”

“Please?” He asked.

She nodded and stepped aside to let him in, a settled feeling washing over him as she closed the door behind him. Welcome, he was still welcome.

“These are for you,” he said handing her the flowers. “And… I brought dinner… if you haven’t eaten yet, or if you have…I…”

She smiled, took the bouquet, his hand and led him towards the couch.

“Unpack food and I’ll grab silverware?”

He nodded dumbly as she shuffled off towards the kitchen. He set the bag on the low table and began opening boxes as she came back with two frosty bottles of Angry Orchard and silverware. 

“Thank you,” she said before beginning to eat and he nods, trying to restructure his thoughts after the hell of a curveball he’d been thrown. 

“I met Jordan at John Hopkins,” he started as she sat back to drink from her bottle. “After I got into the Davidson Program freshman year.”

She nodded, she’d gotten in her first year. It was curious that they hadn’t met on campus, but she guessed the organized chaos of the universe just didn’t have it in the cards. For a moment, she wondered how very different their lives would be at the moment had they met then. Would they be dating? What was he like in college? 

“There was… a lot of attention, I guess that came with it… Then we started dating and she found out that I modeled to pay for school...I guess our relationship started changing after that, but… I never really thought about her… reasoning for dating me. Looking back. we weren’t really compatible. From two different sides of the universe, I wasn’t ever privileged enough for her family, though I was going to be a promising doctor. She wasn’t really the kind of person I knew I was attracted to…”

He swallowed and reached to take Halle’s hand, thankful that she let him. 

“I’m sorry for letting my unanswered questions mess with this. I’m sorry that I…I fucked up.”

Halle squeezed his hand, “You don’t need to apologize for having insecurities or doubts. I appreciate you telling me, though.”

TC looked at her.

“Stop looking at me like I’m going to break up with you,” she said with a smile, getting on her knees to kiss him. “I’m not.”

TC nodded shakily and she wrapped her arms around him, “I’m sorry for not considering what you would think of it. The conclusion you reached was a logical one, justified, and I never meant for you to think that I was using you. I’m sorry for making you doubt if this was real.”

“Are we?” He asked.

“Yes,” Halle said. “You think I give away firsts to the imaginary?”

He laughed and wrapped an arm around her waist and pulled her against him for another kiss.

“No,” he said and meeting her eyes. “Halle… could I ask something?

Halle smirked, “You already know my cup size.”

He laughed, “Yes, I do. Something else.”

“Sure.”

“The guy...you were with at the restaurant downtown.”

She grinned, “I thought that was you. You should have waved or something. That was Evan, he was also with me at the dance studio.”

“Evan,” he said slowly. “Your… old boyfriend?”

She snorted, “No, just my old Sir. Evan didn’t believe in dating...”

He was making strides towards believing in intimacy beyond scening again, but at the time scening was the only form of intimacy he could manage. They could be friends outside of that and they were. When they’d ended their BDSM ties because Halle couldn’t deal with only scening, they’d remained friends. All of which she’d told him before, yet the way Evan watched her made him if Evan’s view of their relationship matched Halle’s.

“He’s representing his company in dealing with Credne,” she said. “He came in early so we could catch up.”

“He… looks at you like a man who wants you.”

Halle shrugged, “Evan and I have an understanding. However, he may look at me, I’ve made it clear that I’m taken vanilla and strawberry.”

He smirked at that, “Sounds like we won’t have to have a man to man talk…”

She laughed, “I wouldn’t say that, but it won’t come to blows. Evan’s protective of me, he’s said plenty of times that he wants to meet you, like a sizing up of Doms or something.”

She shook her head as if she needed one more overprotective male in her life. She had eight brothers, an uncle, a father, and a grandfather who had all at some point promised to put anyone in the hospital, in the grave, or in the ocean at the slightest infraction on Halle’s person. And that was just on her father’s side of the family, never mind the ex-convicts and ex-army officers on her mother’s side who said they’d be happy to correct “a motherfucker if he thought for a second he had it good” and didn’t. 

It was a wonder she ever managed to date in peace.

He squeezed her, “Is that what you told him?”

“That you’re my boyfriend and my Sir? Yes.”

TC smiled as she stood with her bottle in hand, “I have a question for you, but first I want to show you something.”

He stood, grabbing the containers to throw away before following her down the hallway and up the stairs. Her bedroom was at the back of the house, so he’d never noticed the stairs, but they led to the half story behind a heavy door with a lock. He smiled at the state of the office, it looked a lot like his in the condo. Rows of books on various topics, mostly medical. Medical journals piled high, a set of filing cabinets against the wall and a brand new computer on the desk covered in books and pages. She pulled him around the edge of the table and sat him down in the chair, before clicking to open her research paper abstract.

           Though he recognized the profiles from the conference, reading the abstract told him that the profiles she’d built were based on anonymous surveys and statements. The comment cards, some of them in his handwriting, most not as he more often than not. The ones that were his were tagged “For Catering Only”, he recognized Drew’s handwriting and a few others that had also been tagged in the same way. 

“I don’t study people I care about,” she said. “I take a lot of precautions to make sure that I don’t.”

He looked at her as she leaned over and met his eyes, “Any questions?”

TC smiled, “Not at the moment. You had a question?”

Halle shook her head, and carded a hand through his hair, “Never mind.”

It’s a heartbeat of time between the time she says it and the time he smiled at her, but it’s long enough for him to guess what her question was about and long enough to appreciate, maybe even more than before, Halle’s personality.

“You’re welcome to crash if you want.”

“Ooh,” he grinned. “Do I get snuggles?”

“Cuddles, but if you’re nice, you may get upgraded to make-up sex.”

TC laughed and stood, following her out of the room, linking their fingers together. 

“What constitutes nice?”

*

“T’!” He looked up from the bar to where Damien and company had taken up residence in their usual corner. “You’re looking better.”

TC laughed, “Sex will do that for you… Not that you would know.”

A chorus of “oh”s and a "damn" followed as he took his cup and walked over to where the group of brothers were laughing, Henry snickering and Damien glaring at him.

“I see how it is, what happened to bros before hoes?”

TC shook his head and shrugged, “My girlfriend isn’t a hoe.”

“Word? She banging?”

“She's Janet Jackson fine,” TC replied, sliding into his chair. “Janet Jackson wish she was that fine.”

“Whatever, Mr. Faithful,” TC chuckled, shoving Damien. “Ain’t no woman putting a leash around my neck. No kids either.”

Camden laughed, “Damien can’t even button his shirt to the top without getting nervous.”

TC laughed, his head tilted back as Damien shoved his eldest brother.

“Don’t see you rushing for a leash, Admiral.”

“That’s because I’ve already got one in the form of a  _ rank. _ ”

TC snorted as Timothy hissed, “Think Cam’s throwing shade.”

“When isn’t Cam’ throwing shade?” Nathan asked laughing.

TC shook his head and drank as the rest of the group seemed to file in. He’s in the middle of listening to Nathan talk about taking his barely one and a half-year-old son to the doctor and how he went running, ass-naked, down the hall and away from the needle when he hears the voice.

“Major Callahan?”

He turned on instinct to see the face he only saw in his nightmares or episodes. Lieutenant James Melott standing beside a young woman who looked no older than him. 

“Lieutenant…”

The man smiled and came closer with his companion who didn’t bother with a preamble and hugged him.

“Stace’, think that’s a bit--”

“Shove your face, Swiss,” she said squeezing TC tightly. “Thank you.”

TC blinked, confused as to how exactly James was standing right there when he was pretty sure that the man had been blown to pieces.

“Mind if we join you?” James asked and TC shook his head, offering them seats across the table as the rest of the group seemed to watch on in interest, confused and maybe a little weirded out. 

“How… is this possible?”

James laughed, “Well, apparently when you combine Bridezilla prayers, a stitch of luck, and one really badass Field medic, you come out Swiss and not dead.”

James told him that the sand bank that TC had left him behind had held during the bombing, held enough that when the crew that came back to try and collect the bodies to ship home, found him, still clinging to life, sutured mostly, and clinging to his promise to walk his baby sister down the aisle. 

“They said I was lucky to be alive,” he said. “Tried to find you to thank you, but you were off again and you know how the upper management doesn’t bother to answer questions.”

TC chuckled and laughed looking at Stacey sitting beside him, “I trust he made it to your wedding?”

“Of course,” she said. “He was still in a wheelchair, but he was there in one piece as I asked.”

James chuckled, “Swiss, is what she had the nerve to call me when I woke up…. _ Swiss _ .”

TC laughed, considering the number of GSWs… Swiss was pretty accurate. They stay for a little longer before heading out and James shakes his hand, thanking him again before leaving with his sister out the door. 

“You okay, T’?” Damien asked.

TC nodded thoughtfully, “I’m getting there… At least I can button up my shirt, guess that means I’m a step ahead of you.”

They laugh and Damien snorted, “Whatever, white boy. You’ll see the error of your ways.”

TC hummed, “Nah...she’s like… when you’re at the casino and you’ve won a couple thousand. You cash in and you take it home-- done.”

“Trying to take it home, huh? Permanently?”

TC froze and they got quiet with his stillness. It hadn’t quite crossed his mind. Did he want that kind of future? The last time he’d thought about it, he’d nearly made himself sick with panic, nightmares about waking up strangling his wife in her sleep, yet… 

He didn’t feel any of that now.

“Not sure.”

“She got you whipped,” Damien shook his head, throwing an arm around his shoulder. “It’s okay. When you want to pull your dick out of her purse, let me know.”

TC looked down to his lap, “She carries really high-end purses… so… considering it’s probably more comfortable than my underwear.”

They laughed loud and giving TC a high five over the table.

“She likes labels huh?”

“She likes quality,” he said.

“What she doing with you then?”

TC grinned, “Well… I have several outstanding qualities that you can’t be privy to… besides my six figures, seven degrees, and private living arrangements.”

Nathan coughed, groaning, “Ouch.”

“Think T’ won that,” Camden said. “Damien just give up.”

Damien glared at him, “Touche.”

“Oui,” TC said laughing as Damien shoved him. 

“On the subject of six figures,” Damien said with a shrug. “Loan me two hundred dollars.”

The table went up with laughter as TC gave him a flat look even as he laughed. 

“What happened to the standard 20?”

“That’s for five figure niggas.”


	20. Doesn’t It Feel Like Our Time Is Running Out?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry, not beta'd my life has been a little crazy (i.e. stressful) as of late.

Halle let out a loud groan, laying down in the night, on a towel. The tailgate was pretty much empty and she’d been at the hospital for three days straight since making up with TC. She only had a few more hours to go, just after the rising of the sun and she breathed deep a tired. At least her personal life was going well, her research was going well. The entire hospital seemed to be buzzing with rumors and questions. All she needed was for someone to step out of line and say something and she was pretty sure she’d open the can of Martin that had been sizzling the whole week. 

Imagine her surprise when Kenny came to sit beside her. 

“Hey, Hal’,” he started. “You alright?”

“I’m tired and I’m heading towards hungry...you?”

He chuckled, “Same… How are you feeling?”

“Like I wish the CNO and Jordan would both pull their heads out of their asses,” she said with a sigh and sitting up. “What’s up Kenny?”

He tilted his head and looked at her for just a moment, “Word’s going around that you--”

“I’m going to stop you right there,” she said holding up a hand. “It’s not your business or anyone else’s business whatsoever.”

“Yeah, but--”

“No,” she cut it. “No buts at all. No exceptions. None of your business.”

Kenny nodded, shutting his mouth and watching her lay back down with a groan. Her phone rang. She lifted her hips with a slow roll that Kenny couldn’t help but watch before laying back down and bringing her phone to her ear. 

“This is Halle,” she said brightly, her best phone voice.

“Ooh… phone voice, so sexy,” TC rumbled into the microphone. 

She laughed, “What are you doing up at this time of night?”

“My internal clock says I should be there, so I’m up… And Gwaine and Merlin are up so we’re planning for breakfast. Want to join when you get off?”

She grinned sitting up, “Of course. Where are we going?”

“I’ll text you the address, but I warn you exactly how insane Gwaine is.”

“Compared to you? I’m sure he’s just fine.”

TC laughed as her watch went off announcing that her break was about to be over. They said goodbye and Halle rolled on to her feet, stretching tall and patting her face to get back to work. Whether someone watched over her or not, or perhaps Kenny had spread the word that she was not in the mood for stupidity, the remaining hours of the shift come to an easy close. She changed out of her scrubs, into her bodysuit, jeans, heels, and packed up to drive to the address TC sent her and let him know she was on the way. 

Surprisingly, Merlin and Gwaine arrive after TC does. He’s leaning against the front door waiting for her, grinning at her and kissing her as she came up to the door. 

“Rough shift?”

“Trying my patience… how goes?”

“Gwaine and Merlin have been busy more often than not,” he said with a grin. “Makes me feel like I’m intruding somehow.”

She laughed, “Well, you’re always welcome to crash.”

TC grinned and nodded, looking up before calling out to Gwaine and Merlin, “You’re late!”

Gwaine only grinned, his fingers interlocked with a still flushed Merlin, swaggering towards them. 

“It was worth it,” he said and looked at Merlin who was doing his best to hide the flush on his cheeks. “Right Merlin?”

Merlin glared at him, before shoving him in the shoulder. TC opened the door for them to enter as the host greeted them and her eyes lit up.

“Well, if it isn’t the Callahan boys!”

Gwaine and TC flashed smiles at the woman as she hugged them both, as well as Halle and merlin. Per her, they were seated in the best seat of the house and more than welcome guests.

“They’ve been coming here since they were barely old enough to cut their pancakes.”

Halle laughed, she was sure that didn’t stop them from trying. Gwaine shook his head. 

“Not even in the slightest,” Gwaine told her. “Turned out to be really messy, but we were babies so whatever.”

Merlin and Halle glance sideways at one another before looking back across the table at the twins who didn’t even bother to look at the menu. When the waiter returns to take their order, she only rolled her eyes at the twins who beamed up at her, flirting with her easily.

“I see you two haven’t changed,” she said. “The usual?”

“As always, sweetheart,” Gwaine said. 

“Just don’t fight over the jug of apple juice,” she said before looking to the sane side of the table. “And for you?”

TC beamed across the table as they order, Gwaine just seemed to be undressing Merlin while the man’s blush grew more red. When the waiter left the table, Gwaine grunted in pain, presumably from the kick Merlin delivered to his shin.

“That hurt.”

“It was supposed to, vagabond.”

Gwaine grinned, “Love it when you talk dirty to me.”

Merlin glowered at him, pointedly, drawing his cup of water to him and drinking as Gwaine laughed. Before Gwaine was done teasing Merlin, he’d asked Halle how she was doing at the hospital without her regular doses of TC-time in the closet, to which she could only answer that the constituents seemed to be trying her patience on purpose. Gwaine grinned and looked at TC. 

“Looks like you’ll have to start gearing up to return to that nonsense soon.”

TC nodded gravely, “In another month or so, yes and the millions of questions about all the advertisements.”

Gwaine nodded, “Beautiful work by the way.”

Halle groaned, “Don’t even talk about it. Is there any other commercials of you coming out in the near future? Before you come back?”

TC shrugged, Alex said that she’d be in touch, but Alex was always in touch whether for business or not. He knew that they were planning for a new fragrance, but there was no telling when that would be happening.

“I have a feeling there will be,” TC told her. “Alex isn’t going to let two months of my freedom slip through her fingers.”

Halle nodded, “Of course not.”

They eat and in between Gwaine’s teasing and TC’s agreement, both Merlin and Halle feel like they were dating the vagabonds of the century, even though they pay for the meal. 

“Is tonight okay?”

Halle smiled, “It’s okay to come over whenever… assuming I’m there.”

TC nodded slowly grinning at her and holding her car door open, “Drive safe? I’ll see you tonight.”

She kissed him and told him the same before backing out of the spot and heading home. Gwaine somehow doesn’t tease him the entire way back to their apartment. Probably because he’s busy trying to get Merlin to hold his hand and not be mad. It’s incredibly cute and TC can only laugh. 

When they get back, there’s a call from Alex that tells him to drive downtown to meet her second partner in crime to discuss, yet another shoot that they want him to be apart of. It isn’t CK but someone else who was getting on the “take care of the people who take care of us” bandwagon. Medical Professionals and the army. Apparently, the army contracted Under Armor to make new performance gear. He wasn’t surprised.

He packed his overnight bag and ducked out of the condo before Gwaine had managed to get Merlin cornered in the room they were sharing. Upon seeing her, TC wondered if--

“Yes, we are twins and you are far more beautiful in person,” Giselle said as she hugged him and ushered him to the elevator. 

Seemed like he and Gwaine weren’t the only ones adhering to the twin contract.

*

Halle woke up pleasantly warm to the sound of her phone ringing. TC groaned, squeezing her waist and burying his face in her shoulder, his morning erection pressing against her and his scruff scratching against her skin.

“Tell them no,” he said drearily. “My Halle, San Antonio can’t have you back yet.”

She giggled and reached for the phone, “It’s my aunt actually.”

TC sighed and turned over, knowing that there was nothing he could do to convince her not to answer the phone, and he really didn’t want to. HIs strategy to be the best boyfriend ever included getting Brooklyn, Cinaed, her uncles, aunts, father, and brothers to love him. He’d already gotten Jayden on his side, he was making pretty good progress. He figured that the aunt and uncle would be a little easier given that her eight brothers were military and of course older than her.

“Hello,” she said. “I assume this is for fun and not wedding.”

“You would be correct,” Brooklyn said as Cinaed rolled their suitcases to the car. “We should be touching down in San An’ by noon. You have time for lunch before business?”

“For you? Of course,” Halle said sitting up and chuckling as TC flailed for his phone that began to chime. “Seems like my chief distraction has plans.”

“Ooh, the boyfriend? We get to meet him yet?”

“Don’t know,” Halle told her looking over as TC answered his phone and rolled out of bed with a groan.

“Morning, G’...”

“The first wave of parties are next weekend, so I’ll probably be running around to make sure everything will be ready in time.”

Halle nodded, preliminary checks were necessary and the reason why Brooklyn was so highly sought after, “Sounds good.”

TC came back to kiss her cheek and tell her he would be heading out after a shower and eating most of the apples in her fruit bowl.

“Eat real food mister!” Halle yelled after him earning a laugh. 

“Is he there?” Brooklyn asked interested. “He staying over on the regular?”

“Don’t get excited, missy,” she glowered. “Where are you two staying anyway?’

“Don’t know, you know your uncle arranges all that, I just tell him the city.”

“Right,” Halle said walking to slip into a robe and then to the kitchen while the shower began. 

Brooklyn lets her know when they’d be landing and tells her they’ll meet up for lunch at least, to bring TC if he isn’t busy, and that she loved her. By the time she’s hung up, TC is coming down the hallway, his hair still damp from the shower and dressed. She rescued her fruit bowl and placed an egg, ham, and cheese croissant in its place. He pouted at her.

“Not even one?”

“You can have one,” she said. “If you eat the sandwich.”

TC grinned, picking it up and taking a healthy bite before kissing her and stealing an apple, “You’re the best.”

“I just play it on TV.”

TC laughed, “Don’t we all. Will you be home around six?”

“I should be, I’ll let you know otherwise.”

TC nodded, “I’d like to pick up on that cuddling that was so rudely interrupted by life.”

Halle shook her head and kissed his cheek, walking him to the garage door and opening it so he could mount his bike and finishing his sandwich, stowing his apple in his saddlebag for later.

“Be safe,” she told him.

“You too gorgeous.”

*

Brooklyn and Cinaed land at about one o’clock, check in all of twenty minutes later and pull up at Halle’s house around two. Per usual for Halle’s day off, she came out in something that was equal parts sexy and casual to hug them both, chat and climb into the car as Cinaed opened the back door for them both. 

“Chauffeuring still, Uncle D’?”

Cinaed grinned into the rearview mirror, “Makes it easier to keep my eyes on the road and on my wife at the same time.”

Brooklyn rolled her eyes, “Laying it on there thick aren’t you, sunny?”

He laughed, “Something like that.”

The restaurant is a nice one, not five star but not a diner either, Halle is almost surprised until she realized that Cinaed is dressed extremely casual. No doubt that it was all name brand, because Brooklyn no longer shopped at walmart for clothes citing that she made a better life for herself so she wouldn’t have to.

“Are you trying to keep a low profile?” Halle asked a little surprised and wry. “You?”

Cinaed rubbed his scruffy face, “I think the scruff is working.”

Halle snorted, of course. Cinaed was known to always be clean shaven, in a suit, or at least a tie and that was what all of his pictures were like. If a reporter could get a picture of him like, it would upset the world. 

“I’m taking him to the party. Is everyone coming?”

Halle nodded, “Grandpa’s back in town, all of the uncles, my brother’s, even my uncles on the Martin side are coming.”

If only because they wouldn’t believe that 16 children Timothy Baker  _ could _ get married. Brooklyn nodded and looked at Cinaed, “Sounds like it should be three instead of one.”

Cinaed shrugged, he’d pick up cash later to put in the clip Brooklyn had given him when she knew he very rarely carried cash on him anymore unless he was going super low profile to places where only cash was accepted...Usually on their vacations.

“Three what?” Halle asked.

“Hundred dollars,” Brooklyn said. “Dominoes, Poker… Blackjack… you know how they are.”

Halle nodded solemnly, “Try not to break the bank.”

“Theirs maybe,” Brooklyn said with a laugh, “And it would serve them right for years of causing unnecessary stress to myself and E. Martin.”

Halle smiled and nodded as Brooklyn went on to explain how large get togethers usually worked on the Baker side of the family and debrief him on what exactly he’d be dropped off at. There wouldn’t be stripers, but there would be barbecue and lots of food, beers, so she suggested he brought his own.

“It will be cheap, though Dad will have scotch,” Halle said. “A full bar. It won’t be Louis XIII but it will be good.”

He nodded in understanding, “I’m not so far removed from my past that I won’t drink second to bottom shelf tequila.”

“You’ll be sick, cast-iron or not.” Brooklyn said. “We’re not talking Cuervo, we’re talking off-brand.”

He winced, “Right...So a stop to the liquor store.”

Halle nodded and told him to make sure he put it with wherever her Dad and Camden’s alcohol was because if he put it anywhere else it would be free game to the rest of the family who liked to drink excessively.

“Ah the shots and no chaser crowd,” Cinaed said fondly. “I am familiar.”

“We know,” Brooklyn said shaking her head fondly. 

Lunch ends with Cinaed having a fairly good understanding of the insanity that would be the Bachelor party held midday, and then the meeting of the families held the same evening. Yet somehow, it didn’t prepare him for the way Brooklyn was when he woke up the morning of the parties, calling Halle to let her know that she’d come get her to run around with her before the Bachelorette party and don’t bother getting dressed as she had something for her. It was the Wedding Shower, not even the Bachelorette Party...

He knows Brooklyn’s nervous ticks. When she was sad, she wore a certain style of make-up, usually bright colors and gold. When she was stressed out, she picked the highest shoes she could stand to walk in for an hour straight to wear to make her walk slower, easier and less like a stress walk. When she’s angry, she wears red… imagine what he has to think when she walks across their hotel room in a sinfully tight body con dress in candy red, her favorite pair of stress heel, platform and deadly. Her make-up done in that red and gold that he’d associated with her unsettlement. Imagine what he thinks when she slipped on one of her gold power bracelets and gold earrings. 

For a moment, he considered bending her over something and spanking her until she came, but that wasn’t conducive to what he’d been working towards with her: the day she would just ask for what she needed. So he got dressed in the jeans, casual boots and button up she’d picked out for him, grabbed the crate he’d be using to roll in all the alcohol. They stop at the bank to grab cash, then Cotsco before driving the distance towards Timotthy’s house.In the rearview mirror, he can see her looking out the window, her hands gripping tightlty together and trying to be as calm as possible, but it isn't working. So he stopped the car across the street from Timothy's house and got out to open the back door and look down at her. 

"Scoot over," he said and she did so so he could get in beside her and lock the door again. He waited looking at her, waiting as she fiddled with her hands and stared holes into the console between the front seats. Her mouth opened for a moment then closed, opened again and closed. 

He waited until she looked at him with those eyes, lost and a little overwhelmed. He hated when she let herself get like this and all he wanted was to get in the front seat and drive them back to New York but he stopped himself. This was something she wanted to do, felt that she had to do-- no matter how much stress it caused her, no matter how much anxiety, he respected that.

"Cinaed... I... Sir...Please."

He could have been cruel and made her ask properly, but she was in no position for that, on the edge of hysterical breathing and she hadn't even seen her sisters yet. Though she complained when he messed up her hair, he knew she loved it from the look in her eye when he did it. He didn't do it now, but cupped the back of her neck  and made her look at him. 

"Next time," he said. "We won't leave the hotel until you ask for it, and I don't care how late that makes us, you understand?"

She nodded, closing her eyes and letting out a shuddering breath. He kissed her gently before tugging her over his lap, making her spread her legs after he hiked up her dress and smacked her ass hard on her naked cheek. 

"A thong, love? Why didn't you say anything?"

"I... I didn't think... I'm sorry."

Cinaed let out a breath, hushing her and pressing a hand around the back of her neck, careful of her hair and holding her still as he pulled the small vibrating plug out of his pocket to set aside and a small package of lube. 

"Shh, baby, I'll take care of you."

She sighed at the words, "Yes, Sir."

"Good girl, just relax and let me take care of you, sweet. You know you can ask me for anything. You know I'd do anything for you."

She closed her eyes, hearing him, the low rumble of his voice, his hand on the back of her neck and fingers slick and thrusting into her just the way she liked a little rough, but precise and sure. It was the quickest way to get her out of her head, away from the seven in the morning call from sisters who hadn't even bothered to call her in years, but always managed to ask her for money through her brothers. 

_ Think you could get sometime in your so -called busy schedule to come to your own brother's wedding?  _

_ You doing to be here for this bridal shower to meet your brother's fiancee? _

_ You bringing your imaginary husband with you? _

She cried out at the  next blow. 

"I said relax," Cinaed said returning to fingering her open, her thong pulled aside and he was glad that he'd brought an extra pair of underwear for her along with the lube and vibrator. He was beginning to wonder if he'd ever drop the habit of being prepared to debauch her in the car... He guessed whenever her anxiety got better.

When he slid the plug into her, he feels it in her neck when her mind hands off her doubts and anxieties to oblivion and she sunk into the pure carnality of the pleasure and pain mingling with each landing of his hand on her ass. She doesn't cry, but makes quiet little needy sounds into his thigh as he spanked her the way she needed it: hard and patient. Sure, he wouldn't go in when they planned, but that wasn't a big deal considering she still had plenty of time to get to Halle and start her appointments... At least this way she'd be settled in her skin and comfortable--happy even and Halle could take care of keeping her that way until she came back to the house and could sit on his lap for the remainder of the evening. 

At least that was his plan because she really liked her place there with his arms around her and him speaking into her hair. She always said it felt safe, just like being across his lap felt safe even as she cried out in pain and came shaking and sniffling, almost boneless across the seat. The car was much smaller than the car they used in New York, but it didn't matter. There was still plenty of space to get her up, get his pants down and slide into her easily. She clung to him as he lifted her hips carefully, sure to stroke into her and aim where she liked at every thrust. 

"S-Sir... I..."

"Shh," he soothed, tucking her head back to the crook of his neck while he moved her hips over his lap. "Be a good girl for me."

"Yes, sir," she sighed moaning into his neck, kissing gently whispering thank yous and I love yous as she came apart. He didn't stop, but slowed down as she came down from her high and glanced at the clock. They'd gotten moving early than he thought as they were still rather early. Cars began to pull away from Timothy's house across the street as he soothed Brooklyn back into reality. 

She pulled back panting and looking at him with wonder. 

"Next time sweet," he said, kissing her nose. "Don't let it get this bad, okay?"

She nodded and curled back into his arms, breathing slowly and just relishing the feeling of him still hard inside her. His arms around her and nothing in her ears but their breathing and the beat of his heart. It's a safe place where she can chip away the anxiety to find herself again. When she does, he pulled out ever gently, and lay her across the back seat, reaching for his sex go bag. She chuckled seeing it. 

"You brought it with you?"

"This one is for travel, sweet," he said, grabbing the package of wet wipes to clean himself up and pull his pants up and fastened before tending to her. He tugged her underwear off and threw them in the plastic bag before wiping her down, kissing her thighs and massaging them gently before sliding another pair, nearly identical up her legs and tugging her dress back down over her hips. 

"There you are," he said and kissed her forehead before tugging her to sit up as he repacked it all in the bag and slid it beneath the driver's seat.

"How you never manage to lose it I still don't understand."

"It's important," he said. "I consider it an essential... like my wallet."

She laughed and nodded. 

"You going to tell me what got you so worked up this morning?"

"They called..." she said. "I didn't want to wake you... since I know you were up skyping last night."

He kissed her again and grinned, "Lipstain is the best."

She nodded, "Thank you."

"I'm your husband, this is part of my promise. Don't thank me for doing what I'm supposed to."

She shook her head and kissed his cheek, if only Cinaed could really, truly grasp exactly how rare he was, perhaps he'd understand why she always thanked him. She doesn’t get to tell him that as he opened the door and pulled the crate out of the trunk to fill with alcohol and help her out of the car with a kiss to her hand. 

“I’ll be watching for your messages,” Cinaed told her. “Text, call, whatever, okay?”

She nodded sighing as he pressed a kiss to her forehead and opened the driver’s door for her to help her in.

“Always such a gentlemen,” she said with a smile, laughing as he kissed her soundly.

“Just for you,” he said. “I hear I’m a real asshole to everyone else.”

She doubted that highly as he closed the door and waved her off before tilting the crate and rolling it towards Timothy’s house. He took a breath, relaxed a bit and rang the doorbell. From the look of the man who opened the door, it’s one of Camden’s brothers looking at him strangely.

“Uh… yeah?”

“Hi, Cinaed, Brooklyn’s husband,” he said extending a hand. “I’ve been dropped off with alcohol as an introduction.”

Alexander blinked, shook the man’s hand, glancing to his ringed finger and shrugged, “That sounds like Aunt B’, come on in. Dad! Aunt B’s husband is here!”

“And where is she?” Timothy yelled back from deeper in the house. 

“Gone.”

He heard Timothy sigh and CInaed laughed, it seemed like he knew his baby sister well. 

“Baby B’...” TImothy said shaking his head and looking up as Cinaed walked in. 

The room went silent and Cinaed wondered if maybe Brooklyn should have rethought the no introduction policy… or perhaps at least told them a bit about him first.

“You’re white,” one of the said staring at him in confusion. 

The eldest man at the table, he assumed to be Brooklyn’s father, Matthew Baker, whacked him over the head. 

“Shut the hell up,” he said and looked up, standing and rounding the table to shake Cinaed’s hand. 

He wasn’t sure if it was his height or maybe the way he met his eyes that made the man narrow his in suspicion. 

“Haven’t heard a lot about you,” he said. “Come on in join the table.”

“Thanks for having me,” he greeted, giving his best smile before gesturing to the cart he’d rolled in with him. “Where should I put this?’

“Cheap stuff in the cooler, good stuff at the bar,” he said and waved him to follow him as the table picked up with conversation again. The rather outspoken one, he assumed to be Johnny. 

“You’ll have to excuse Johnny, he isn’t the bright bulb in the toolbox.”

Cinaed snorted, opening the cooler to set the cases of beer inside before sliding bottles behind the bar. One of which was wrapped up. 

“From B?” Matthew asked looking at it confused. 

“From me, married man to soon-to-be married man.”

Matthew nodded, “Tim! You got a gift.”

“No gifts,” TImothy groaned coming in. “Unless it’s some sense for Johnny.”

Cinaed laughed, “No, but it’ll help make it a little more bearable. Brooklyn said you liked cognac.”

Timothy nodded taking the box with a curiosity before peeling the wrapping paper off it and looking at Cinaed like he was insane. 

“Hell of a wedding present,” TImothy said opening it and reading the gold Louis XIII lettering on the side. “Didn’t think Baby B loved me that much.”

He laughed, “That’s not the wedding present and that’s from me from married man to soon-to-be.”

Timothy nodded, thanked him and slid the box into the bar’s locked cabinet, “Can’t trust certain drinkers.”

“Fair,” Cinaed nodded before following them back to take a seat at the large table and meet everyone. As he thought, the whole family was here, relatives of Halle’s included. He was almost grateful for Camden snatching the magazine with his face on it off the counter.

“Thank you Cam’.”

“Anytime,” he said. “Ready to play poker?”

He grinned, “I could be.”

Camden only rolled his eyes and directed him to the table they were playing poker at. The buy in was a hundred dollars and Cinaed could only shrug, pull out his wallet and throw in five twenties. 

“You had to pick those up didn’t you?’

“Shut up Cam’.”

“Admiral not playing?”

“Nah’, I’m gonna sit this one out.”He pat Cinaed on the shoulder and walked to the bar to take a seat and watch on as the game began. They talked, talked shit to one another and eventually began to ask Cinaed all the questions in the world. 

“I’m in sales and acquisition.”

Camden snorted, chuckling behind the table. 

_ Sales and acquisition of whole cities maybe… _

“That’s cool. I’m a businessman myself--”

Matthew whacked Johnny over the head again, "Johnny being a bookie's assistant''s assistant does not count."

"I'm working my way up."

"You running a little slow aren't you?"

Johnny glowered at his father and the game rolled on. 

"I know it's expensive to live up in New York," one of the other brothers said. "Especially with the economy they way it is."

"We do okay," Cinaed said checking his watch, twisted so the face of it was on the inside of his wrist. There was only a message stating that she'd made it to Halle's place so he didn't worry about it.

"Brooklyn's work isn't slowing down at all," he said with a shrug.

"You a kept husband huh? I guess," one of them said.

"Not much else choice with Baby B', you know she always on the grind."

They nodded in agreement and if Cinaed could have reached Camden from where he sat, he'd kick him in the shin for his muttering. 

_ Kept husband my ass. Kept wife maybe. _

"What kind of watch is that?" Johnny asked. "I'm a Rolex man--"

Matthew whacked him again, "You are a Po'-lex man. You haven't even ever owned a watch that start with an R. Not even a G before: Guess. Stop fronting."

CInaed shrugged, "Brooklyn brought it back from Switzerland."

“You must be living the life,” Johnny said . “She got any rich friends that need someone to take care of?”

Matthew raised his hand again and Johnny ducked away. Cinaed smirked wryly, “Not that I know of.”

“Like any woman worth anything would want a worthless fool like you,” another one of the brothers said. “There are  _ still _ women accosting Dad in the streets because of you.”

Johnny shrugged, “They knew.”

Camden groaned, “I’m getting another drink, Y’all want anything?”

“A beer,” the voices went up around the table.

Cinaed shook his head turning back to answer whatever other questions they had. When it came to why they weren’t invited, didn’t know anything about him, he told them that such things were out of his control as Brooklyn had planned the entire thing.

“Even E. Martin went and she ain’t even B’s blood,” someone huffed.

“Halle went,” Camden said passing around the bottles. “So did I. You think it was perhaps because y’all don’t know how to act?”

Cinaed shook his head as Camden went to go read the magazine he’d swiped and continue to make sarcastic remarks the entire game.

“What are you reading about over there anyway?”

“High stakes charity poker game held in New York City a couple week ago,” he said out loud. “Billions of dollars went to Orphanages, Homeless Children, Education and Battered Women’s shelters…”

“Wish I had money like that,” one of them said. “To gamble it all away to charity.”

“I doubt that they gambled all their money away,” Camden said looking at Cinaed who tapped his watch apparently absently. “Right, Uncle D’?”

Cinaed gave Camden a flat look, “I doubt it highly.”

“Still, I’d have other things to do with my money than gamble it away for charity,” someone said.

“And that’s why you won’t ever have enough money to even worry about it,” Timothy said.

Cinaed chuckled, it seemed that Brooklyn’s brothers were the type to play the dozens  _ constantly. _ He’d almost missed that once his company had taken off years ago. Matthew and Timothy are the first to bail out stating that they were only going to give up two hundred, but they kept playing, chatting and trying to pry into Cinaed’s life as much as possible. It’s when he tells them that he never knew his family, grew up in the system that they get skeptical and press harder. He knows its out of love for Brooklyn, but he can’t help but thinking that it was just a little too late to be so concerned since they’d been married for eight years already.

“Alright, show ‘em,” Johnny said setting down his hand confident of his three of a kind. Two others didn’t even bother while someone else had a straight leaving Cinaed to only smile honestly and set down his hand: a straight flush.

“How the fuck… but you…”

Cinaed smiled, “I’m a street kid remember? I can spot a tell a mile away.”

Johnny grumbled as Cinaed raked the cash towards him and began to count bills. They hadn’t believed him since he had no real accent, was pressed, polished, and was married to Brooklyn. An expensive watch on his wrist, high quality sneakers and the air of a man who valued himself, but it’s the way he counted cash that told them that Cinaed hadn’t lied about anything. It was the same way certain cousins counted cash, folding the bills over in stacks of a hundred and putting them together in the clip he’d brought with him. He counted cash like he used to work for a drug dealer: quick, efficient, and methodical.

“You got lucky… no tells in Domino.”

Cinaed shrugged, stowing the cash away, “You may have just paid for a our next vacation, thank you.”

Matthew glowered, “I ain’ giving B’ no more of my money. Knowing she make plenty.”

Timothy nodded in agreement and got up from the table as the dominoes came out and they started getting rowdy about it. It was a very odd sense of going back in time when they started playing, slamming dominoes down shouting counts of ten and laughing. 

_ Heading to the hotel now, how’s it going? _

_ Think I’ve got airfare if we ever want to fly first class on a public plane. _

The reply is nothing but a crying laughing smiley face and then a picture of the venue. Dominoes is the kind of game that he had little practice in, but once they got going, it wasn’t hard to figure out what the rules were and figure out where his advantage would lie. They said that there were no tells in Dominoes, but there were.  Johnny squinted when he didn’t have a play and he stared at his only play. The others’ tells were simple: blinking too much, continuously checking their hand, rolling of the shoulders. More importantly, they had the observation skills of people who’d never really dealt with his brand of street kids. He created tells on the fly, ones that they would latch onto and play accordingly so at the end they’d drawn most of the Dominos and hadn’t scored anything, neither had he, but he also only had five dominoes left.

Johnny grinned, placing a six-three where he thought Cinaed’s last domino had to go. They looked at him expectantly and flipped over his five- two sliding it into play. 

“Twenty and Domino,” 

They gawked and Camden just shook his head, “You should be ashamed of yourself.”

“I’m not.”

“Of course you aren’t.”

“I’m not playing with you anymore, you cheater!”

Matthew smacked him over the head, “Nobody’s cheating, turn them over and give that man his money.”

Cinaed nodded smiling pleasantly at the winnings, counting them accordingly and adding them to his cash stash before it was officially deemed that there could be no more games if he was playing and it was time to watch TV. He winced seeing the new channel and the symbol of his company, but it’s mitigated when Damien grabs the remote and changes it to the sports channel. 

“Look! It’s T’!”

“Don’t know if I really want to see him running around in his underwear.”

Damien shrugged, “Got to wonder if it’s actually six figures.”

“Probably 7, that’s CK we’re talking about…”

“So it should be two grand then.”

Camden shook his head, “Fool.”

*

“Well, how do I look?” Halle asked twirling around in the outfit Brooklyn had brought with her. 

“As stressed out as I am,” Brooklyn said. “But fabulous none the less… So about this boyfriend.”

Halle glowered at her, hands on her hips, “Seriously?”

“Seriously, he staying over on the regular?” Brooklyn teased as Hall turned to put on her earrings. “Must be nice to be young, loved, and getting recurring, consistent dick.”

Halle snorted, “One: young is relative, Mrs. Helios. Two: there haven’t been any such words exchanged. And Three: he has not been staying over regularly… “

“But you want him to,” Brooklyn pointed out. 

Halle sighed. 

Brooklyn: 5; Halle: 0.

“You’re worse than Mom.”

Brooklyn gave her a misty smile a little surprised that Halle’s voice didn’t crack and it wasn’t said with it’s usual anguish. 

“I have to speak on her behalf, so… there we go. Drinks, brunch, business, then party.”

Halle nodded turning to grab her clutch and follow her out to the car, locking the door and closing the garage behind her. 

“Tesla huh? Didn’t know you could rent these.”

“Don’t be silly, he owns this,” she said. “Part of the fleet.”

“Right,” she said climbing in as Brooklyn started up the engine and pulled out of the driveway, heading off to the day planned before the catastrophe that would most likely be the Wedding Shower. 

They had brunch downtown at one of Brooklyn’s favorite places, have a few drinks and ride to the venue afterwards. It seemed that everything was on schedule and the RSVPs were coming regularly. It felt a little odd to know that the two sides wouldn’t be equal, but she didn’t let it worry her as she planned on merely having the areas sectioned off. For immediate family and allowing everyone else to sit where they may. The Wedding Shower would be a chance for them all to mingle, meet, and talk about the little details like seating arrangement for the reception, what kind of cakes they wanted and any number of things the Victoria still had to make a decision on based on her vision, some suggestions, and the budget Brooklyn had established for the wedding.   

When they arrive at the hotel where they were hosting the wedding shower, they’re happy to see everything already set up, an intimate affair for Timothy’s sisters and daughters to meet and mingle with Victoria’s mother, Victoria, and her friends and sisters before the wedding. They would do another one of these things later, but it was best to test the waters now before doing any hard planning for the bachelorette party.

When Victoria arrived, Brooklyn bestowed upon her the sash of honor and the fanciest chair.

“I thought this was just the shower.”

“Don’t argue with it, your mother insisted.”

Victoria smiled and nodded, taking a seat and the offered glass of wine from the waiter who’d be attending them. They had a little bit of time to chat before everyone else arrived and everything got a little crazy.

“I will do my best not to cause a scene,” Brooklyn promised. “But heads up that my sisters, and the rest of my nieces and I don’t exactly see eye to eye.”

Victoria nodded sagely, “I don’t think they like me very much either, so I’m in good company.”

Halle smiled over the top of her glass as the door opened to usher in the aforementioned women, all together looking around in something like curiosity before looking at Brooklyn and Halle chatting with Victoria.

“So you made it.”

“I’m planning it,” Brooklyn said politely, a tight smile on her lips. “I’m  _ in _ it.”

The eldest narrowed her eyes before Jamie, Timothy’s eldest daughter looked at Halle, “You too? Thought you were busy doing whatever you do.”

Halle sipped from her glass, “Well perhaps if you’d managed to call, or pick up the phone, you would’ve known.”

Victoria winced, seemed like this was already not off to a good start, but before much else could be said, the waiter offered them drinks, pointed them towards the food and was back off to greet Victoria’s friends coming in with smiled, gifts, suggestions and hugs.

They greet everyone, taking a glass of wine and settling in to tease Victoria about not getting cold feet after years of ducking proposals.

She rolled her eyes, “That was  _ once _ and he was a controlling sociopath.”

“Think that’s a good reason to avoid getting married to him,” Halle said. “My Dad’s not a sociopath and the closest he gets to controlling is wanting to pay for things.”

Victoria laughed, that was so very true. She remembered every argument they’d had about her pulling out her wallet to pay for her meal when the check came, no matter where they were. It had simply become a game to see who could get their wallets out first which he usually won simply because the waiter always gave him the check.

Eventually, they get to the details of the wedding like colors, dresses, etc. The colors would be purple, burgundy and orange on the account of the amount of wine they would have and the fact that Victoria’s dream wedding had involved a vineyard-like feel. The bridesmaids would be wearing burgundy and per Brooklyn’s suggestion they would be allowed to pick their own dresses so long as they were all the same color. She handed out swatches of burgundy and said they should all find shoes to match their skin tones for a unified “nude” look.

“Burgandy…” one of them said. “Gonna need to lose some weight for that…”

Victoria laughed, “Because they don’t make burgundy dressed in every size?”

“No one wants to go to a wedding fat!” the matron of honor said. “They say you  meet your future spouse at wedding all the time.”

“You are already married,” another woman pointed out. “It’s the rest of us that have to worry about that.”

“Well maybe I’m looking for a younger model.”

Brooklyn snorted shaking her head and taking another sip. Victoria’s friends were an interesting bunch to just  _ listen _ to as they talked dieting, time limits, programs to get “slim” for the wedding whether they would be in the wedding party or not.

“What about you?” Halle looked up from her glass to one of her sisters.

“You’re going to need it,” Jamie said, looking at Halle. “I mean… how do you even find clothes to fit that?”

“The same way your exes found a way to stare at it,” Halle said pleasantly and Brooklyn almost spit out her drink as Halle’s phone rang and she excused herself to answer it leaving Jamie seething.

“Halle the Magnificent,” she greeted and he laughed, a deep rumble in her ear. 

“Magnificent indeed, since you’re in such a good mood, you must not have left your house yet.”

She hissed, “If only. I did however just put my eldest sister in her place.”

“Damn it,” he said. “Any chance you’ll be heading home before two or so?”

“Not even with all the Irish luck in your veins. What’s up?”

“I left my bag at your place, birthday gift for a friend,” he hummed. “Perhaps I should just give him the 2 grand.”

Halle laughed, “You’re talking about… David?”

“Damien,” he corrected with a laugh. “ David’s his older brother, who is also ridiculous.”

“I’m sure, well you could come pick up my keys, if you’d like… I think handing over two grand to Damien would be a bad idea.”

“He’d probably up it to twenty next year,” TC said with a snort and a shake of his head. “You sure?”

“Yeah,” she replied. “I trust you.”

It’s something warm and almost overwhelming that makes him smile and head downstairs to his bike, “Well then, tell me where I’m going.”

Once she’d given him the address, she told him to ask for the Baker party and he’d be shown up. It’s not even thirty minutes before the door opens and he strode in, all smiles and charm. Brooklyn looked at Halle and then back to TC.

“The ads don’t do it justice,” she said offering her hand. “I’m Brooklyn and you must be the illustrious TC.”

He grinned and shook her hand, “Pictures don’t do you justice either. Far more stunning up close. It’s nice to meet you. Any idea where Halle went?”

“She just headed out, she’ll be back in just a second.”

TC nodded and turned to the group of women who seemed to be staring at him in awe and a bit of confusion. 

“Hello,” he said offering his hand to shake and a smile, “I’m TC.”

“You’re… the Army ad guy.”

He blinked and laughed, “Yes, I am that person too.”

They blinked, the four of them a little shocked, “See… that’s the younger model I was talking about.”

TC laughed, “Sorry ma’am, I’m already taken.”

“Happily?”

“Over the moon,” he said with laugh and turned as Halle marched in, her expression a little dark, behind a group of seven women who all seemed to share similar features.

“Hal’?”

She looked up smiling at him before walking ahead of the group who seemed a tad lost, staring at him, much like the women who’d been sitting down had been. 

“You got here faster than I expected,” she said approaching him and humming at the kiss he gave her. 

“Well, extra time meant extra time to see you, so…”

“Best pick me up,” she said. “Let me grab my keys.”

He followed her to the other side of the room, careful to watch her and the way she seemed to be a little tense and fighting to keep her voice upbeat. 

“Are you alright?”

Halle pulled out her keys and looked at him, “I’m…”

TC waited as she sighed and she shook her head. TC nodded, threading their fingers together and leading her towards the door. 

“I’m stealing your niece for a moment,” TC told Brooklyn. 

“Just bring her back,” Brooklyn said. “She’s my driver until four o’clock.”

TC laughed and closed the door behind her, leading her down the hall and around the corner to pull her into his arms. 

“I’m going to assume that it isn’t about the keys….”

She shook her head with a sigh, squeezing him, “You know those seven sisters I have?”

“Yeah.”

“They’re real witches.”

TC hummed, “They pull your hair?”

“They’re just spiteful, evil creatures,” she said. “Petty, jealous… the whole gambit.”

TC nodded, “Well they have a lot to be jealous of from where I’m standing…”

Halle laughed and looked up at him, grinning down at her, “But you don’t need me to tell you that, so what’s the problem?”

She huffed. It wasn’t really a problem, it was just that they were her older sisters… significantly older and they all had their own ways of making her incredibly uncomfortable. 

“You know what it’s like being the youngest...imagine that along with being the odd one out.”

TC hummed, “Sounds like a pain in the ass and the perfect opportunity to ruin people’s lives.”

Halle shook her head, “You are a terrible influence.”

“I’m the best influence.”

She placed her keys in his hand, “You’ll need the clicker to get through the laser beams on my lawn.”

He nodded, “And the swinging axes?”

“You’ve got about ten seconds to enter the code at the back of the house’s panel.”

TC laughed, “How do you manage to do all of this?”

“Practice.”

He shook his head and kissed her again, “When should I return these to you?”

“You can… meet me there if you’d like.”

TC nodded, “I’d like a lot.”

Halle nodded and kissed him again before walking back to the party. TC made it to her house bef

When he grabbed his bag and left, he was careful to lock the door behind him, reset the alarm system and put Halle’s keys on the inside of his bag before heading towards the café. He knew that Damien’s birthday wasn’t for another few days, but he’d be busy so it was best to give it to him now.  Damien seemed surprised that TC actually gave him something that he even got a hug… at least until he opened the box and found a tie.

“You think you’re funny.”

TC laughed and so did everyone else.

*

Halle wished that it got better when TC left, if anything it seemed to have gotten worse as Patricia seemed to be rather interested in why she was “pretending” to date a Calvin Klein model. She was only grateful that Brooklyn was there to deal with her sisters so she wouldn’t have to listen to her aunts as well… especially since they were still on about Brooklyn’s imaginary husband.

Victoria opted to ride back to the house with Brooklyn and Halle.

“Is it… always that tense?”

“Oh no,” Brooklyn said. “They’re just getting started… no doubt I’m going to have to slap someone before it’s all said and done.”

Victoria winced, suddenly glad that she’d gotten into the car with them rather than taking anyone else up on their offer.

When they arrive, Brooklyn doesn’t bother to do more than greet her brother Arthur who opened the door. She walked past Johnny and Ethan, nodded at Timothy, snarked at her father and found Cinaed sitting in the old recliner just as he promised he would be. He looked up at her and smiled.

“Hey there,” he said watching her walk towards him and promptly sit in his lap so he could pull her close.

“Had a day have you?”

“I’m trying to remember why I agreed to this.”

He smiled, “Because of Timothy.”

She let out a sigh, “Are they here?”

“They got here… about ten minutes before you… and set about asking a million questions as to whether or not I was Victoria’s brother or not…and if I was single.”

“Of course,” she looked up at him. “And Victoria’s friends?”

“I think they were just shocked, but my cover hasn’t been blown so we’re doing pretty good.”

She sighed, closing her eyes and getting comfortable in his lap. The sound of his heart beating beneath her ear, slowly drowning out the sound of the chaos of the house as children came rushing in and a different kind of noise started to rise in the house. Dominoes, cards, children, the smell of alcohol and so much more—it’s the sound of the past creeping up behind her like a sneering figure in the dark waiting to swipe at her and drag her down to where it’s all just screaming.

“Shh,” he soothed, stroking her arm. “We can go if—“

Glass shattered and he looked over to see Halle standing in the kitchen, Patricia standing in the doorway and Halle carrying her shoes in her hand. It’s quiet and he isn’t entirely sure what’s happened, but he knows that Halle’s expression isn’t one he ever imagined on the woman. She always seemed so far removed from sheer rage…But really perhaps that was it. Brooklyn’s reaction to the family seemed to only be anxiety, frustration and stress where Halle’s seemed to be pure rage. He assumed that was because Halle had so many other things to stress about.

“What happened?” Timothy Sr. asked. 

Patricia and Halle looked at one another before Halle hopped up on the counter, scooching across the the counter to dismount on the counter, her shoes in hand. She put on her shoes, grabbed her purse, kissed her father, grandfather, Cinaed and Brooklyn goodbye, gave Camden a squeeze, said goodbye to the kids, and walked outside. Camden grabbed his keys and went after her knowing that Halle was in the mood enough to walk until she found a street where she could catch a cab. 

Patricia said nothing as Timothy sighed. Alexander shooed the kids away from the kitchen and grabbed the broom. 

“Nice going, ‘tricia.”

She glared at him and marched off.

Camden drove down the block to see her marching in her heels, drawing all sorts of attentino before pulling over and getting out of the car, opening the door. 

“Hal’, get in the car.”

She turned, following his direction and climbing into the car silently, fuming. He closed the door behind her and he climbed in the driver’s seat, steering the car towards Halle’s place. She texted TC to tell him that she was on her way home only to find out that he was already there.

“You wanna talk about it?” Camden asked not looking at her as they stopped at the light. 

“No.”

Camden nodded, “You know you could have just punched her.”

“Dad’s getting married.”

“And he’d understand. She’s had it coming for a long time.” Halle said nothing and he reached over to squeeze her hand as he stopped in front of her house, “It’s not good to keep it all bottled up.”

“I’ll see you later, Cam’. Love you,” she said and he sighed watching her get out. 

“Love you too, Potato.”

She walked up to the front door and knocked. TC came to unlock it and let her in before Camden drove away. He pulled her close. 

“Looks like dinner will have to wait,” he said taking her hand. “Color?”

“Green.”

TC nodded and took her other hand, leading her back towards her bedroom, careful and easy. It isn’t what she’s expecting, but it makes the red haze go away. He silenced her phone and his as well, pulling her into her bedroom and stripping her clothes off her gentle, kissing every inch of her before putting her on the bed and breaking her down kiss by lick by caress until she could only stare at him in wonder as he coaxed her back into reality. 

“Shh,” he soothed. “I have you.”

“Thank you,” she whispered hoarsely. He smiled and pressed a kiss to her forehead, staying with her, still clothed until she fell asleep. She woke up as he was carrying food back into the bedroom, undressing and climbing into bed to feed her. She sighed with content as he pressed a kiss to her head. 

“Just breathe.”

She finds herself repeating that when she goes back to San Antonio Memorial. Noticeably, Drew seemed to be in a better mood. He gave her a small smile. 

“Rick and I talked, he’s off in a program for a prosthetic.”

She beamed at him and told him that he should restock his lube supply. He flushed and marched away from her as fast as his legs could carry him. Since she find something else to say throughout the shift, Drew finds himself eternally grateful at seven to duck out of the hospital and go home to his condo. He opened the door with a sigh and froze at the smell of food. 

“T’?”

“Try again,” Rick said from the kitchen as Drew walked quickly around the corner and dropped his bag in shock. He’d been there before and after, the time in which Rick was still adjusting to not having a leg. He’d been there to change his bandages...so how was Rick standing there on two whole legs? Wiggling his toes. 

“R-Rick.. What…”

“Medium Rare okay?” Rick asked. 

“Rick… How…?”

He turned smiling, “Yeah?”

“Your  _ leg _ ,” Drew said staring at it, jumping as Rick wiggled his toes that were not supposed to be there.

“Dinner?” Rick asked. “And we’ll talk. You’re off tomorrow and the day after aren’t you?”

Drew nodded dumbly as Rick carried the plate of steaks and salad bowl to the table. He came back for the mashed potatoes and everything else while Drew just watched him walk, watched his leg in particular trying to figure out the black band around his calf. They sat down to eat and Drew swallowed. 

“Drew?”

“Rick… you have to… What is happening right now?”

“Credne Technologies,” Rick said. “Has this Move Beyond the Horizon Program, separate from the military…”

“And they’re also magical?”

Rick snorted, “Maybe in possession of alien technology, but not magic.”

Rick smiled at him, taking his hand across the table, “Eat. You’ll need it.”

Drew swallowed, staring at him to try and figure out what he could possibly mean with that, but he eats. Rick tells him from the beginning when Halle gave him the brochure, the testing, the fact that he’d been dedicating all the time he had in the day to this moment. 

“I’m sorry, Drew,” he said after a moment. “I don’t want you to think that I… that I think you wouldn’t love me just the same, but it was something I had to do… for myself.”

“You don’t have to apologize--”

“Yeah, I do and don’t you dare say I don’t ever again,” Rick cut in. “No more of this, Drew… No more hiding okay?”

Drew swallowed and nodded slowly watching Rick press his lips to Drew’s hand. 

“We’ll be alright,” Rick assured and grinned. “Now, if you’re full go shower. You smell like hospital.”

Drew laughed, unable to help himself before nodding and standing. He stopped at the entrance to the hallway to look at Rick, clearing the table before heading to the shower. He obviously doesn’t give it another thought… That is until Rick is in the shower with him, his arms around his waist and his mouth pressed to Drew’s shoulder. 

“I’ve been neglecting you Drew,” he said roughly. “Part of my “Get back in Drew’s good graces” plan is to remedy that. Will you let me?”

Drew groaned and nodded, forcing his hands flat against the wall. 

“Stay just like this.”

“R-Rick…”

He grinned, “You remember… the first time we went on leave together?”

Drew nodded shakily, how could he not? He’d had to spend at least three days hiding his muscle strain. 

“This of it as… something like that. You’ll be good for me, won’t you Drew?”

He nodded and for however long it is until he surfaces again, there’s nothing else in his mind but Rick’s hands on him, his voice in his ear and the consistent pleasure of just being Rick’s. It’s better than any fantasy, better than any time before. Secrets are laid open and there’s a freedom that hadn’t been here before. 

“My parents abandoned me when I was four years old,” he heard himself say from far away. Rick’s arm around his waist cuddling him close, his lips on his neck gently. 

Maybe it’s how warm he feels after months of being cold, maybe it’s the sex high… and maybe it’s because he’s learning to be okay now. Drew isn’t sure. What he is sure of is that Rick turned him around and let him cry, sobbing into his chest while he forced the words out. Words he hadn’t ever admitted to himself let alone the court or anyone else besides the twins in his darkest days. 

He can hear Rick talking to him, telling him that he was there, that he wouldn’t leave that way again, that even if they didn’t work out in the long run, Rick would be there for him. He says sweet meaningful things in Drew’s ear while coaxing him to just keep breathing, coaxing him to sleep with Drew’s hands fisted tight against his chest and Rick’s arms around him. 

It pisses him off, the fact that no one was there to protect Drew when he was younger. He thinks he sees red and understands the family penchant of bouts of blackout rage. He wants to put Pamela, Luke, and Elizabeth in the  _ grave. _

“ _ Rick… _ ”

The thought vanished as Rick pulled Drew tighter against him and pressed a kiss to his head, “I’ve got you Drew. I’m here, babe. I’m not leaving you.”


	21. Hey, Youngblood!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This one is kind of a fluffy chapter, meant for happiness and a glimpse of brightness after so much turmoil... well, a partially fluffy chapter. There's some backstory here that explains somethings.

Halle walked into the hallway, from the locker room to see Drew there, anxious, but worlds better than he had been a few weeks prior.

“Hey Drew, everything ok--”

Drew wrapped his arms around her, squeezing her tightly, “Thank you. Thank you…”

Hale smirked, squeezing him back and pulling away from the hug, “I take it Rick’s home.”

He nodded, “For good, he’s… going to get his license back.”

Hale grinned, “Good. How are you?”

“Good,” Drew told her with a smile so bright it almost blinded her. “Better than good.”

“See told you those gifts would come in handy.”

He flushed and stammered. How could she know what they’d been up to for the last two days? H’d made sure to keep Rick out of the shower with him before coming to shift.

“You’ve got the sex glow,” Halle told him with a smirk, “Be careful or Kenny’s going to get you.”

He opened his mouth, but then there was Kenny telling him that Rick was there to pick him up.

“He must love you to be up so damn early.”

Drew smirked, “Wouldn’t expect you to know anything about that.”

Halle snickered, carrying her things with her towards the foyer to see Rick talking with Scott about his leg.

“Nurse Martin,” Scott started. “I wasn’t aware that we had a prosthetic contract with Credne.”

Halle scoffed, “You don’t.”

He blinked and she looked at Rick, “Leg treating you well?”

Rick grinned, “Like I never lost it.”

“That’s the point, go on and get out of here. I’m sure you have better things to do than stand on it…”

Drew  gawked as Rick grinned and pressed a kiss to his cheek, “I can think of a few things…”

Drew doesn’t humor him but turned to leave as Roy laughed, he climbed into the truck, beaming that Rick seemed so very… happy, taking his hand and steering the truck out of the parking lot. They end up at a quiet diner, one that Drew remembers fondly from his childhood with Regina. It’s the best place to get blueberry chocolate chip pancakes.

“Your brother told me that you were a sucker for their pancakes,” Rick said with a grin. “It’s about time to meet the family officially.”

He stiffened and Rick squeezed his hand, “I promise, everything’s going to be fine. Kim’s under strict Dad orders not to be an ass.”

Drew nodded slowly and got out following Rick inside as he scanned for his family and gestured to the booth on the other side of the restaurant.

“Drew!” A waiter greeted, an older woman who had been working there since he was a kid. “Oooh, is this the illustrious boyfriend? Rick?”

He smiled and shook the woman’s hand with a smile, “Hello, ma’am.”

Drew gave her a pointed look but she seemed to be incapable of not embarrassing him, looking him over.

“Well, so long as you’re pleasing Drew I suppose you’re cute enough…”

He laughed and Drew closed his eyes, taking hold of Rick’s shoulders and steering him towards the table and shooting a meaningful look at her as she only smiled and announced to the rest of the staff that she’d met Drew’s boyfriend and that he was at least a nine out of ten. He sighed knowing that there was no way that every waiter in the establishment wouldn’t be stealthily trying to get a good look at Rick throughout breakfast.

“Hello,” he turned at the familiar voice and blinking at the man sitting at the table with a knowing smile.

“You… you’re…”

“You’ve met my Dad before?” Rick asked looking between them.

“Good to see that boyfriend of yours got his head on straight,” William said holding out a hand to shake. “I’m William Lincoln, it’s nice to meet you officially, Drew.”

He swallowed, shaking the man’s hand and wondering what exactly he was supposed to think about the whole affair. But William seemed only overjoyed to meet him at last, Angela and Kimberly were at least polite.

Perhaps this wouldn’t be so bad after all. Something had to go right, right?

*

When the audit is over, Jordan is pacing outside the meeting room to go over the results, waiting for Scott. She knows that the Day Shift had passed their audit with some minor things to fix. No one got fired as far as she knows from the smug look the Day Shift head gave her.

 _The bitch_ , she thought with a huff and she took a deep breath before walking in and greeting the man who was the official face of the audit and his partner who smiled pleasantly at her. They shook hands in greeting. Scott arrived a few moments later to greet them.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you both, let’s get started,” she began sliding a folder for each of them towards them. “Here are our recommendations regarding your document keeping and patient dealings.”

Per the report, a lot of the doctors needed further training on record keeping, as did the nurses, they’d structured a procedure based on a set of files they found to be immaculate. It doesn’t escape her notice that the files they pulled were all in TC’s handwriting. There were a few discrepancies about some of the payments that had gone in and the hours worked, but overall they did far better than Jordan expected.

“Aside from that, you pass.”

Jordan let out a breath, glad for it before walking out with Scott and forcing herself not to do a bit of a celebration in the hallway. Instead, she found Sindia and hugged her tightly, thanking her for taking over the medical records room and potentially saving them all. She shrugged it off and went away as quickly as she possibly could.

“Do I smell?” Jordan asked humorously.

“No, but I don’t like you, or your aura.”

Jordan blinked at the woman’s bluntness, stunned. Sindia didn’t bother to elaborate or pay her any heed, only walked on down the hall.

“Hey Jordan,” Kenny started. “You alright?”

“Sindia just told me that she didn’t like me, or my aura.”

Kenny winced, “Well… Sindia’s a little strange.”

Jordan nodded, trying to shake it off. She can’t remember anyone ever telling her that before, but she doesn’t have much time to mull over it or even talk to Sindia about it as she had reports to pour over, a training schedule to draft, and so much more. What she would have done to get TC back on rotation even a week earlier.

*

“Come on,” TC teased looking at her across her dining room table swirling a fork in the late night pasta she’d whipped up after several rounds of sex.

He’d been trying to get this out of her for the better part of five minutes knowing that after sex like that they were both usually in a far more jovial mood.

She laughed, “Maybe some other time.”

He sighed, “No fair.”

“Well, you’re not being forthcoming either.”

TC nodded and set his fork down.

“We were raiding a shack in Afghanistan,” he said. “Some of the higher ups swore up and down there were dangerous people there...I was supposed to cover Thad, supposed to shoot on sight.”

Halle set her fork down as he gave a wry smile, “I was… never really that good at following directions.”

After a moment of looking at TC’s face, watching the grim shadow advance she asked, “How old were they?”

“No older than twelve,” he said. “I… I got my brother killed and used his corpse to keep another soldier alive… a heart transplant, a blood transfusion…”

Halle stood then rounding the table to commandeer his lap and thread a finger through his hair. She let him sit back and wrap his arms around her as she stroked his hair and pressed a kiss to his forehead.

“Thad wouldn’t agree with you,” she said.

“That’s what everyone keeps telling me.”

“Baby, if you could shoot a twelve-year-old with no hesitation, I don’t think we’d be talking right now.”

He closed his eyes leaning into her, breathing in deeply and sighing at how good she smelled, how warm she was and how comfortable it all felt. She would be the fourth person he’d told about Thad’s death. They said it made it easier the more he talked about it, made it easier to understand when he told it, but he wondered how many times he would have to say it for that to be the case.

She tilted his head up and kissed him gently, “Thank you for telling me, babe.”

He nodded, “Your deepest secret match-up?”

She chuckled, “Not even. Mine involves an insane amount of whipped cream, sex toys, and a room of people.”

His eyebrows shot up, “Halle… are you telling me you went to an orgy?”

“You can believe what you will,” she said and he scoffed.

“You can’t leave me hanging like that! Come on!”

“Nope, it’s time for bed now. I have to get back on shift stupidly early.”

TC grumbled and finished eating. He helped her wash dishes and climbed into bed with her before squeezing tight. She smiled in the darkness.

“There’s nothing in your past that could change this, bae,”she said drowsily, dozing off. “It’s okay.”

He woke up with her alarm and watched her get ready before climbing into something suitable for driving and heading out with her.

“Romantic dinner out next time,” TC said, leaning to kiss her through her car window. “And perhaps you’ll tell me about this room full of people?”

She agreed and headed to San Antonio Memorial feeling oddly accomplished. Sindia beamed at her.

“Warm happy fuzzies abound,” she said. “Things are going well?”

“They are,” she said with a grin before getting changed to start the shift. Drew looked like he was about to float away to Cloud Nine.

She was sure that there was nothing that could burst his bubble. TC would be happy to hear that even as one of the nurses came in with a magazine opened to the Calvin Klein ad for their partnering with the Red Cross.

Jayden let out a low whistle, “Your bae’s been busy.”

Halle grinned. He had been very busy. Interestingly enough, he’d been wearing that very same pair of underwear when he’d come over the night before. They looked much better in person. The day after there’s an ad for another company’s fragrance, also partnered with American Red Cross and the printed army ad. She gets a copy of all three to show TC who laughed.

“They came out better than I thought they would,” he said and taking her out. It’s only a few more days before TC was off probation and he’d planned it so that he would have this night to be as romantic as possible.

“Come on,” TC said softly, grinning at her. “It’s romantically shuffle around time.”

Halle laughed but took his hand allowing him to lead her to the dancefloor. She was pretty sure that TC didn’t know how to _shuffle_ at all. He pulled her close, happy to rock with her to the sound of an old school ballad that she hadn’t heard since she was kid singing into spatulas in her mother’s tiny apartment.

“What are you up to?” Halle asked into his shoulder.

“I can’t be charming and romantic?”

“TC… You know that’s not what I mean.”

“Let’s say I’m groveling.”

Halle shook her head, “You don’t need to.”

“I do,” he said. “I was wrong and maybe getting down on my knees doesn’t do it for you, but damn it I...Just let me romance you? Show you that I’m not a complete asshole?”

Halle kissed him and laid her head on his chest, “I know you’re not a complete asshole. You just play one on TV.”

He laughed, unable to help himself.

They spend the remaining days together, culminating a shared bath and Halle explaining exactly how she ended up in a Swinger’s Party and so sex-drunk she didn’t leave until the end of the week.

TC hummed, “You were a wild college girl huh?”

“I needed an escape after...after the court case ended.”

He swallowed and squeezed her tightly, kissing her cheek as they soaked in her jetted tub, “I’m sorry babe.”

She shook her head and looked at him, “She would have loved you.”

“You think?”

“I know,” she said relaxing back. “You make me happy and you treat me right. How could she not?”

“Your Dad and brothers going to feel the same way?”

She grinned, “Definitely.”

TC hummed, “Somehow… I don’t want to go back to work.”

She nudged him, “Don’t back out on me now.”

*

TC does his best to slide into the hospital on the first day he’s allowed back to work, he hopes he gets in without notice--

“TC’S BACK!” An intern yells down the hall and all at once there’s clapping and cheering, people pushing him and ruffling his hair. Nurses asking him about his modeling and so much more until he has to laugh and lift his hands.

“Okay! Five minutes, let me change and actually get to work, yeah?”

There’s a laugh, but they let him go change in peace. Halle, surprisingly, isn’t on shift today, off doing whatever it was that she did when she didn’t have to be at the hospital. It feels strange to be back at San Antonio Memorial, he almost wonders if he forgot how to be a doctor, how to be an ER doctor with the two months of absolute relaxation and soul searching behind him. 

“TC,” Jordan called and he turned offering her a serene smile.

“What can I do for you?” He asked.

“You’re… looking… better,” Jordan said eyeing him. “Two months of vacation did you good, did it?”

TC shrugged, “You could say that. It definitely let me catch up on my sleep.”

Jordan gave out a nervous laugh, “Well, welcome back, don’t think anyone is taking it easy on you just because you’ve been out of the office for two months.”

He laughed, “Wouldn’t dream of it.”

In truth, it’s a rather calm night. He gets to chat with children who are brought in with severe issues, a teenager, and an elderly woman. It’s about a week into his return when Jordan asks for it, to draft manual of procedures that should firmly fall on the Head of the ER’s desk. 

“No.”

“What?” Jordan asked, shocked at his answer as he sat at the table. The others who are in the room look at them and then proceed to leave the room.

“No, I can’t.” He said again and turned back to drinking his tea and reviewing a patient’s charts.

“What do you mean you can’t?” Jordan asked. “It’s a simple request.”

“That should fall on Scott’s desk,” he said.  “I’m not taking it without a sign-off.”

“This wasn’t a problem before,” she said. “What’s the problem now?”

“The problem is that every time you ask me to do something that should firmly fall on Scott’s desk, I get the backlash,” he said regarding her. “And not only do I get the backlash, you don’t even step up and tell him that you asked me. I’m tired of it. Follow protocol-- ask Scott first.”

Her jaw dropped and he stood to head towards the front nurse’s desk where Sindia stood. He told her that the patient needed an MRI to the torso and a full blood panel to be sure. 

“Thanks, Cindy.”

“Since when did you care about protocol or communication?”

He turned and looked at Jordan, “Since I stopped hating every second I was alive.”

She paled, “TC--”

“It’s fine,” he said from far away moving to walk forward, sipping from his thermos.

“It’s not… that was… I’m just under a lot of stress and I didn’t—“

“I said, it’s fine,” TC said, continuing to walk and drink. 

“What is going on?” Jordan asked cutting him off. “This isn’t like you.”

TC looked at her calmly, surprisingly, with an odd detachment and breathed, “What do you want from me, Jordan?”

“An explanation.”

TC took another breath, “In public?”

Jordan looked around and huffed, “To my office then.”

TC followed her down the hall and into her office. She closed the door and closed the blinds. TC tugged at them until they were up completely and he could see out and anyone on the outside could see in. 

“What are you doing?”

“Given our reputation,” he said, “You think it’s the best thing to have closed door, non-visible meetings? You and Scott are already on the rocks.”

“So you’re thinking about me now?” She laughed incredulously.

TC’s eyes narrowed watching her as she threw up her hands and started talking. It makes him think of the day she found out about him modeling to pay for school. The new ad had come out, she’d been flipping through the magazine idly when she’d come upon the picture of him, bare-chested, smeared with blue paint in a pair of bright blue underwear with Calvin Klein on the band.

_ This is something you should have told me! Imagine how shocked I was to find out that my boyfriend was being ogled by half the world behind my back? _

“TC are you even listening to me?”

He looked at her, “I’m just wondering why you’re yelling at me like we’re dating.”

Her eyes widened as he continued to watch her.

“What is that supposed to mean?”

“You haven’t said anything about work, or us being friends or anything of that nature. What exactly do you want an explanation of?”

“This,” she said, gesturing to him. “Since when do you drink tea? Since when was there a line between your job and your life? Since when did you follow protocol? Since when did it become a not okay thing for me to ask you for a favor? After everything TC, am I not allowed to ask you for a favor?”

He took another drink and finally she snapped, tearing the thermos from his hand and setting it aside. He held out a hand to keep her at a distance and pick up his thermos, wrapping his hand around it to ground himself because he remembered the last time she was angry. How mean she could get… how mean he’d been, but he’d never thrown her mistakes in her face, never cut as deep as he could. She had never been able to grant him that same courtesy.

“Close enough,” he warned knowing what the edge of an episode felt like. It was interesting how she felt so threatening now. 

“What the hell is that supposed to mean?”

He took another breath, trying not to wince at the pitch in her voice, edging towards shrill and that Alexander sense of entitlement was coming through. He should have known when he saw that house she grew up in and met her parents what she was like underneath it all. He thought he could love her despite that, maybe even because of that. It was only now, now after the dust had settled and he found that he was, in fact, crawling, alive, through the dust, that  could admit that he’d been deluding himself, clinging to something that he thought he wanted because he was just…

“I’m trying to do the right thing Jordan,” he said. “Trying to move on. I drink tea now because coffee keeps me awake, gives me the shakes. I drew a line because how else am I supposed to get better? I’m following protocol because I don’t want to get in between whatever it is you and Scott haven’t hashed out.  Asking me for a favor is different than telling me to circumvent Scott’s authority. I have enough to worry about without making my work life hard.”

“That’s never stopped you before.”

“That’s because I didn’t want to have a life outside of this.” He said and looked at the thermos with an odd smile. “I have something else now that makes it necessary to draw the line.”

She stared at him like he was crazy and he watched her, the way her fists curled tightly. Internally, he braced himself for the lash out, the tantrum that was brewing behind her teeth. He used to walk away from it, to not feed into it, to try and get her to calm down, but that had been when they were dating and it had taken a long time to figure out what exactly it was about Jordan, about her past that made her react that way. 

“I need you to do this.”

“It’s Scott’s job,” he said. “Ask him first.”

“I’m asking you—”

“And I’m telling you to ask him first.”

“TC,” she said softly. “I’m asking nicely.”

“And I’m declining nicely,” he said. “You can’t have it both ways Jordan. You can’t tell me to toe the line and then ignore it when it suits you. It doesn’t work that way.”

“It’s never stopped you before.”

“Because I wasn’t toeing the line,” he said. “What was one more infraction?”

What was Scott and Ragosa’s hatred when they could never hate him as much as he hated himself? He looked at the thermos the words on the front: Keep Calm and Save Lives. They soothed something, pushing back the darkness edging his vision for sure.

“Why are you being so obstinate about this? It’s a great opportunity to help the hospital and--”

“It’s Scott’s jurisdiction,” he said.  “Ask him first.”

Jordan grit her teeth, the urge to just make him do it, to order him, to pull everything she had to in order to get him to agree, to get him to do this was almost too much. For him, for her, couldn’t he see? Couldn’t he-- She wants to scream and break something, but somehow it simmers in a low rage and a knock sounds at the door.

“Enter,” she bit out.

A doctor poked her head in to tell Jordan that Ragosa was looking for her. 

“I’ll find him in a minute.”

The woman looked between the two of them and quickly bowed out, no doubt to spread the news that they were having heated conversations in Jordan’s office, that it was all TC’s fault probably, that Jordan looked furious. He had no doubt that everyone would believe her and he would probably get a scolding from Topher, yet somehow he just didn’t care. Topher knew as much as TC had told him. Drew and Gwaine were the only ones who knew the full truth of everything… being there when he’d gotten drunk enough to just spill his guts… 

Jordan ground her teeth together. It was a perfect opportunity to put him where he belonged, much better than the day-to-day of the ER. He deserved  a position of authority and power, where he could really put all of his talents to use. Sure, he never considered himself a teaching sort, but it was something she always envisioned him doing because he was good at it. Her Dad had been right about TC it seemed, no ambition to do anything anymore, the war had broken him beyond repair, beyond salvation and finally, she shook her head.

“Fine,” she said. “We’re done.”

TC nodded and got up, opened the door and waltzed out without even looking back, ignoring the crash of a binder to the ground in her office as everyone turned to look at TC and shake their heads. Let them think what they wanted, it didn’t really concern him.

“Do I want to know what’s crawled up Jordan’s hooch today?” Jayden asked seeing him.

TC gave her a smile, “Dunno, those labs back yet, Cindy?”

She looked at him and shook her head, handing over the file, “You need more tea.”

TC agreed with that, thanked her, and opened the file heading down the corridor. 


	22. No, I Think It Looked A Little Better On Me.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> All TC does is win... even when people are glaring at him.

The day was going as well as could be expected for TC. Jordan had taken to glaring at him at every turn, in turn making Scott pissed off with him. He wasn’t sure what they were both so damn angry about considering that he’d done everything according to protocol. He’d turned down several requests to fill in just to get on Ragosa’s good side, avoiding overtime like the plague. It seemed that there was nothing that he could do to have some damn peace. 

“What the hell is going on?” Jayden asked him, stopping him on the way back to the locker room. “You can cut the tension in the ER with a fucking phone.”

He winced, “I’m not sure, Jay’. I’m going to dinner, though. Where’s Hal’?”

Jayden hummed, “She should be out of surgery soon. Late night romance?”

“And maybe a quickie in her car, yeah.”

Jayden shook her head, “T.M.I., T’.”

He grinned roguishly and sighed leaning against the wall and looking over the charts in his hand. When Halle arrived, standing at the desk to write up her post-operation notes, he snagged her by the waist. 

“Rough shift?” She asked absently threading a hand through his hair as she finished her report on the tablet and the paper copy. 

“Yes, and I can’t figure out why. Lunch at the taco place you like?”

“I’m game,” she said, turning her head to kiss his cheek before handing over the tablet and the clipboard.

She went to change scrubs and left the hospital with TC, returning about forty-five minutes later in a much better mood still a little flush from the blowjob she’d given him. Her a little flushed from the spanking he’d given her as a reward and both happy to go on with the rest of their shift. 

They only had to make it through three more hours without incident and they’d be that much closer to having a weekend off together. For the love of god, he needed it desperately. It was about thirty minutes until it was time for him to go home when Jordan had seen fit to say something to him, or rather in his general vicinity about Scott to a nurse. TC hadn’t considered himself a part of the conversation, happy to look at the clock and wish that the seconds would fly by the way they used to. 

“You know all about the silent treatment don’t you?”

Sindia’s jaw dropped and she watched the shift in TC’s aura, the way a wave of quiet swept across the room. Jordan blinked shocked that she’d said it, her hand coming to cover her mouth in shock and her eyes falling on TC’s rigid back. The nurse she’d been talking to looked at her and promptly excused herself.

“TC… I didn’t—”

“For once in your life, Jordan, own your shit,” TC said, turning to glare at her. 

Her mouth opened in shock and surprisingly TC doesn’t have the mindset to even feel guilty for that look on her face. 

“Is there anything else you’d like to say to me?” TC asked. “Anything else you’d like to rehash? You’ve been glaring at me since our last conversation. Don’t bother to hold the rest back whatever it is, Jordan. Speak up.”

Jordan blinked swallowing and backing down and somehow it only made him angrier. He’d always imagined her larger than she actually was, always pressing, poking, pointing fingers and unloading the blame onto his shoulders. It was his fault that he was broken, his fault that he was struggling to put himself together, to get over Thad’s death and his part in it. It was his fault that he couldn’t find anything more  _ prestigious _ or  _ respectable _ to do in order to pay for school. It was his fault that they broke up, that at the end there wasn’t any trust in their relationship because he’d modeled in college, because he was always gone…

“Any more quips or digs you’d like to deliver? Last chance because the next time, there’s no going back,” he said. “I’m sick of you trying to manipulate me with the past.”

Jordan’s eyes narrowed, “And what is that supposed to mean?”

“It means I’ll quit,” TC said. “It means I’ve forgiven you. I’ve forgiven myself and we’re over. I’ve moved on. Have you?”

She paled, the foyer quiet though there were plenty of people there to witness the fact that he’d said it.

“I’ve laid the past to rest,” he said. “I won’t be abused with it for another moment. So get it out now, Jordan. All of it or shut your mouth.”

Jayden hissed and Sindia closed her mouth looking between the two of them. Jordan only stared at him giving him the strangest look, something like confusion. Something like her brain had been broken and she couldn’t compute, but she said nothing, taking in his anger before he turned back to the nurse’s station to turn in his clipboard. His mood ruined by it, he turned down the hall and headed towards the locker room to get changed.

When he was changed, he walked out and promise to meet Halle at his place. Thinking that he could get out of the building without another incident, Scott appeared on the pathway he usually took to the parking lot. 

“Dr. Clemmens,” he said with a nod and leaving the building without another word. He got onto his bike, revved it and headed home. 

He left with just enough time to miss the announcement of the Staff Appreciation Event that would also serve to officially announce  San Antonio Memorial as a part of the Avalon Hospital Systems. Halle told him and he could have cried around a mouthful of late night pasta.

“But… sex weekend…”

She laughed and straddled his legs on the couch, settling herself into his lap, “It’s just Friday night.”

He groaned, “Ruining my life.”

*

“Mom! Dad!” Jordan greeted seeing them in the foyer. 

TC gave up on having the rest of the week in peace and promptly turned down another hospital. 

“What are you doing here? Steph’?”

Her sister smiled at her, “You know Mom and Dad are affiliated with the Avalon Hospital System. I just happened to be invited too. How are you, sis? You look like shit.”

Their mother nudged her, “Unlike you she keeps late hours.”

Stephanie rolled her eyes, “And will have gray hairs before she turns forty.”

Jordan’s jaw dropped, “Really Mom, it’s fine. It’s been a trying week is all.”

“Is there any chance we can steal you away from breakfast after your shift?” Her father asked. 

“Of course. I’ll ask Scott if he wants to come along.”

Her father nodded with approval as Stephanie rolled her eyes and turned to wave at TC. Her parents turned looking at him, recognizing him instantly from the advertisements. Stephanie grinned. 

“Hey, hot stuff!” She greeted. “Loved the camo'.”

He laughed and lifted his mug in greeting, nodding at her parents and turning to speak to Drew about something.

“I see he’s still here…”

Stephanie threw up her hands, “I’ve… officially hit my rich nonsense quota for the day. I’ll catch you later for food J’, parentals—it’s been a pleasure. Steph’ out.”

She turned and left out the door. Jordan’s parents looked at her and shook their heads.

“I’m not sure where we went wrong with that one…” he father said but turned back to Jordan. “I’m glad that you found someone better. They say the military can break weak souls.”

Jordan winced inwardly, but waved them goodbye, pondering their words and turning to get her charts.

“Scott?” He turned to look at her, “My parents are here… Want to come with us for breakfast?”

He looked at her for a moment still angry, but nodded and turned to leave. She let out a breath of relief and leaned back against the wall, now if only everything else could go according to plan…

Stephanie returned around Jordan’s dinner break and proceeded to heard her out of the building and into her car for some quick diner food.

“So… how did you go from modeling, noble, veteran hottie to straight-laced Scott?” Stephanie asked. “And try to keep the Parental nonsense out of it?”

She shrugged, “We just didn’t work out Steph’.”

“Bullshit, that man loved you. What did you do?”

“Me?! What about him?”

Stephanie eyed her, “Because I was there when you freaked out about him being a model?”

She huffed, “I think I had the right to be upset.”

“The man had a job to pay for college.”

“Showing off his mostly naked body—“

“A job,” she said. “Is a job. Just because it wasn’t up to you, or rather the parental standards, doesn’t make it any less valid.”

Jordan crossed her arms, “I thought I was supposed to be the older one.”

“By two whole years,” she said. “Amazing that you never act like it.”

Jordan glared at her and then turned back, “I… He wasn’t the same man I dated in college. He isn’t the one who I talked to when I could.”

She looked out the window, “It was… like he couldn’t let go.”

“It’s called PTSD, Jordan. I’m not a doctor and I know what the hell it is. Try again.”

“I told him to leave,” she said. “Told him that war was clearly not for him even before he got Thad killed—“

Stephanie slammed on the breaks and Jordan screamed, jostled forward. Stephanie turned on the hazard signals and looked at Jordan.

“Want to run that by me again?”

“He got—“

“No Jordan,” she said. “How about you explain what the hell you’re talking about and then I’ll tell you why that is some fucked up shit to say.”

Jordan swallowed and told her plainly everything that TC told her. Stephanie sighed.

“Tell me that you haven’t said that in front of him or anyone else?”

“Well no—“

“Good, because I’m pretty sure you should be checked into a mental hospital—Are you fucking crazy?”

“It’s the truth!”

“No, Jordan. It’s not. If you were dating a man who could shoot a  _ child _ without hesitation then you have a fucking problem—“

“All I’m saying is that if he’d shot when he was supposed to, fell in line like he was supposed to, Thad wouldn’t be dead and he would still be in the military!”

Stephanie looked at her, “You… are incredibly fucked up. This isn’t about  _ you _ and your  _ plans.  _ This isn’t about what you thought you could turn him into while you were sleeping around.”

“I—“

“Save it Jordan,” she said. “I know you.”

Jordan swallowed, “It wasn’t my fault.”

“Yeah? And I’m a fucking Superhero.” Stephanie sighed and shook her head, throwing the car back into Drive and continuing down the street. “I can’t even… reconcile the fact that I’m from the same family as you, Jesus.”

“You asked.”

“I didn’t think you’d been brainwashed that much.”

Jordan shut her mouth, “You don’t get to judge me. What exactly are you doing with your life?”

“I have a well-paying job that I love, working for a very nice man that I’ll get to meet at the Staff Appreciation Event, thanks. I’m also happily engaged.”

She looked at her, shocked. For a moment, Stephanie wondered if the shock was that she was engaged and she hadn't been told or if the thought of anyone wanting to marry Stephanie had been too far outside of the realm of possibility for Jordan like a damn Jabberwocky. 

“What? When the hell did that happen? Do Mom and Dad know?”

“Of course not,” she said. “He asked me about a week ago. I wouldn’t invite them if they were the last people on Earth.”

“Well, who is going to give you away?”

“I’m not giving myself away to anyone. Marriage ain’t a slave contract. Get out we’re here.”

She parked the car and got out strolling up to the diner and entering. When they’re seated, Stephanie orders a milkshake while Jordan orders water.

“I have a feeling that if we stay on the TC topic, you’ll piss me off. So how are you and Scott doing? The big day is…when exactly? You know the Parental weren’t exactly forthcoming with the details.”

“I… I’m not sure… we’re kind of on the rocks right now.”

She snorted, “Is it because you still want TC or something else you’ve failed to mention to him?”

“I do not—“

“Jordan,” she said levelly. “You may have been using him, but you and I both know that you followed him to San Antonio, even after everything, because you were hoping to reconcile.”

Stephanie opened her menu.

“Not to mention you stayed…”

Jordan swallowed and opened her menu, “At least I was honest.”

“Right,” she said. “You’ve been the Parentals’ little girl that could do no wrong, tell no lies for so long and you expect me to think that you’ve suddenly turned Mother Theresa? Spare me.”

“I was! I told I couldn’t deal with his shit anymore, no matter how much potential he had. He wasn’t the same anymore.”

Stephanie looked over her menu, “This is why I didn’t go into medicine, god and a superiority complex like yours is dangerous, not that he isn’t without his faults, but Jesus Jordan. Why not just tell the world that you’re a narcissistic user?”

Jordan huffed, not believing that her little sister was lecturing her, “And what about you? You’ve always been the trouble maker.”

“Who wrecked the car when you were fifteen trying to see Donnie?”

Jordan swallowed.

“And… who got in trouble for it?”

She looked back at her menu as the waitress came to take their order. Yes. She and Donnie had been fooling around for about three months before she’d wrecked her father’s car with Stephanie in the back seat. She was supposed to be babysitting and she didn’t want to leave Stephanie at home… She’d blamed it on Stephanie asking for something that wasn’t in the house and her parents had grounded thirteen-year-old Stephanie from going to a friend's birthday party. 

Jordan winced, "I thought you were over that."

"The vase?" Stephanie asked. "How about the show dog?"

Jordan shut her mouth.

“Yes, I’ll have the Lumberjack,” Stephanie said kindly looking up at the waitress and stirring the milkshake that had been set in front of her.

By the time she drops Jordan back at the hospital, Jordan feels like she always does with Stephanie around—like a horrible person. It was the main reason that she and Stephanie kept their meet ups so infrequent—Stephanie always called her on her shit.

When it’s time to meet her parents for breakfast with Scott, she finds herself putting on the smile she always does when she has to eat with them. Scott links hands with her as they walk out to meet her parents in the parking lot. For a moment she’s distracted by Halle laughing and TC’s arm slung around her shoulder. There’s an affectionate kiss to her brown cheek and she knows that TC has said something wicked from the way Halle swatted him. She wrapped her arm around his waist as he flicks through something on his phone to show her and she nodded.

“…I think these are the best shots.”

“Me too. Alex agreed.”

Halle laughed, “What is that?”

“That one was for fun. I don’t think they’ll use that one—Oh, Gwaine’s in town. He’ll be there for breakfast.”

“So much luscious hair, what am I to do?” She asked, flipping her hair and making him laugh.

“We could take a picture.”

They climb into her car and Jordan realizes that she hadn’t seen his bike for several days. Had they moved in? She had no idea. She looked at Scott. They were engaged and they hadn’t moved in together. She wasn’t even sure if they ever would now. Regardless, she sits beside him across the fancy dining table with the shiny glasses and silverware. She smiled and laughs and together they pass off the fact that they’re still a functioning couple.  Her father and Scott get to agree on the fact that TC is nothing but trouble and somehow Jordan keeps her mouth shut for his defense.

Her father liked Scott, liked him a lot. They saw her as the victim of the whole ordeal and she… she was, wasn’t she?

She was the victim.

There a voice in the back of her mind that sounds an awful lot like Stephanie telling her that she was full of shit.

_ For once in your life, Jordan, own your shit. _

* 

“Swanky,” Sindia commented looking around the decorated hotel ballroom. “Wonder how much it cost to host it here.”

“Bet Ragosa wasn’t a part of the planning,“ Jayden said surveying the banquet set up. “He’s probably having a fucking heart attack right now.”

Sindia shrugged.

Meanwhile, Halle was swatting TC’s hand in his bathroom as it tried to pull up the edge of her dress.

“We are going to be late, quit it.”

He pouted, “Not even a taste for the road?”

“Definitely not,” she said. “The sooner we go, the sooner we show our faces and we can go back to enjoying our weekend.”

He sighed and nodded, settling for wrapping his arms around her waist, looking at his own shaved face beside her face as she applied just enough gloss over her lip stain to make him bite back the order to get on her knees.

Eventually, they head out and arrive at the hotel on time. When they walk in together, she isn’t surprised to here Jayden’s comment.

“This is a work function, not a model mixer, you two.”

She beamed and TC grinned, “Can’t help it. Alex demands me to be presentable at events with pictures.”

Stephanie crossed the room to greet them, “Hello hot stuff. You must be the girlfriend…”

She offered a hand to Halle who shook it.

“Hal’, this is Stephanie, Jordan’s younger sister. Don’t worry, she’s the best. Stephanie, this is my girlfriend Halle.”

“It’s nice to meet you,” Stephanie said. “Unfortunately, I’m not over here to be social, I’m here to hand out programs and tell you that seating is open, the bar is open all night and food will be served at seven.”

“You work for Avalon?”

“Senior Analyst and Internal Consultant for the Investment company behind Avalon, Mythia.”

TC grinned slow and easy, “Is that so… my brother works there.”

“Oh?” She asked. “Well, depending on what  he—“

“TC!” They turned and Stephanie gasped seeing Gwaine saunter over. “I see Halle managed to get you to come.”

“Yea,” he said. “She said we had to show our faces.”

He smiled and winked at Halle before shaking Stephanie’s hand, “You must be Stephanie Alexander, it’s a pleasure to finally meet you. I’m Gwaine Callahan.”

“There’s… two of you.”

“Twins.”

“Scary,” she said and shook his hand and her jaw dropped. “You… you’re my boss!”

“Yes… but tonight I’m just the announcer guy.” He laughed. “Don’t work all night, yeah? Drink. Eat. Be merry. T’, Hal’.”

He turned to greet other people, making his way through the crowd. They mingled a little longer before heading towards the tables to sit.

Jordan goes pale when Gwaine steps on to the podium.

“What is TC doing up there?” Her father asked.

“That’s… his twin brother, Gwaine.”

“Hello everyone,” he greeted. “Welcome to the Inauguration, if you will, of San Antonio Memorial into the Avalon Hospital SystemS.  I’m Gwaine Callahan, President and C.E.O. of Mythia Investments, and a Board member of Avalon Hospital Systems.”

Jordan’s jaw dropped and she could feel her father staring in shock.

“I’m not a doctor. I don’t even like chemistry. I’ve just been elected to stand up here because I have the nicest hair.”

A ripple of laughter filled the room.

“These lovely people up here at the front will be giving speeches along the lines of welcome to the Avalon family, we’ll work you only half way to death, and please take your vacations or we’ll force you to. Sometime before dessert I’ll get back up here and present with this lovely woman, Dr. Rose Firestone, the award to be presented tonight on behalf of Avalon Hospital Networks and the National Board of Hospitals and Medical Facilities. Until then, enjoy the food.”

Halle clapped along with TC as he got down from the podium and the waiters appeared to bring food to the tables. TC chuckled knowing that it had definitely been Gwaine to specify that they eat well.

“Steak,” Halle grinned. “My Texas heart is so happy.”

TC laughed.

The clink of silverware and plates drifted into the air. Jordan said nothing as her father and mother seemed to be completely put out and shocked. Stephanie sat at Gwaine’s table chatting with him while he admired her engagement ring looking every bit TC’s twin.

“I wasn’t aware he had such connections,” her father said. “Let alone Stephanie.”

Jordan didn’t say anything. She had no idea what Gwaine did for a living, though now she wondered why Gwaine just didn’t pay for his medical school. They were close enough that it would have been a big deal to ask and she knew that had TC asked, Gwaine would have paid both of their ways through school with no problem.

The question burns at the back of her throat well into the third speech by someone she had no recollection of then she looked up to the podium to see the woman from the audit team, Dr. Rose Firestone greet Gwaine kindly before taking the podium.

TC and Halle were getting ready to sneak out, standing by the exit door.

“I know you’re all eager to start your weekend, so I’ll be quick. A doctor at San Antonio Memorial Hospital has been recognized on a National level for Service and Dedication to the patients of the hospital and Excellence in Trauma. This award is awarded once a year after taking a look at all of the operation records across every hospital in the country. You can imagine how long that takes for every award.

The National Hospital Board of Doctors has reviewed the records of San Antonio and selected one of your doctors to receive this year's award in Trauma.”

Jordan looked to Scott. TC was leading Halle out of the cracked door and slowly closing it behind them.

“Dr. T.C. Callhan.”

He groaned and hung his head as Halle laughed. “No!”

Halle shook her head and opened the door again as he hung his head, “I just wanted to go home…”

“I know, sweet. Go on.”

T.C. sighed and walked back in heading up to the podium and shaking his head.

“Interfering with the escape plan,” he said shaking Dr. Firestone’s hand who laughed and pat him on the shoulder.

“If you weren’t here, I would have just given it to Gwaine to give to you. You two look about the same.”

TC glowered at her but let her hustle him to shake hands with Gwaine who chuckled.

“You could have warned me.”

“If I’d known, I would have. I promise.”

He shook his head and turned as she placed the plaque in his hand and the room ER section of the room cheered rather loudly, including Halle who remained by the door cheering with everyone else. When he’d apparently shaken enough hands, he was given permission to leave. He waved goodbye, took Halle’s hand and escaped.

“Must we act like we’re escaping?” She asked laughing.

“Yes, before they find some other reason to keep us from our weekend. Like overtime or something.”

She laughed but followed him to her car. They climbed in and drove to her house, locking the door and immediately his hands were on her and they were tumbling onto the couch.

“Finally!” She laughed as he sat up, “I’ve been thinking about unwrapping you since you slipped into this dress, babe.”

“I bet.”

*

Drew waited in the lobby for Rick to walk into his appointment. What Rick isn’t expecting is Hall in something that could only be called a power suit smiling at him in the room.

“Hello, Rick.”

“Do I… even want to know?”

“Dr. Halle Martin, C.E.O. and President of Credne Technologies.”

“Right…”

He took a seat and answered her questions a little amazed as she got him onto the observation table and did a quick diagnostic on his leg.

“Perfect. You’re all done. If you have any issues, be sure to call us, okay?”

He nodded and he licked his lips, “Thank you… for everything.”

She smiled, “Take care of yourself, Rick… and Drew.”

He nodded and walked out to take Drew by the hand and leave the building.

Things are oddly peaceful over the weekend in between work and sleep. When they arrive at work the next Monday, TC isn’t sure whether to be stressed out or freaked out from the obvious tension in the hospital.

Apparently, the fact that he’d been awarded something was a problem for the power couple’s relationship. Funny how he seemed to be causing so much trouble for them. He isn’t sure what their latest argument is about, but he knows that he’s mentioned in it if only because of the way Scott stands in his way from leaving. Halle is at the end of the hallway looking between him and Scott.

“You…”

TC looked at him and let out a sigh, “Well don’t be shy now. What have I done to piss you off today?”

“You wouldn’t do a simple report? You’ve won an award, big deal. You’re still  _ nothing _ a mediocre battle doctor pissing everyone off. You and your god complex can get the hell out of my ER if that’s how it’s going to be.”

“The… Operational Report for the ER, is what I assume you’re talking about.”

“What other report could I be talking about?!”

“Well,” TC said humorously. “How about any of the reports I used to do because we didn’t have a Head of ER?”

Scott blinked.

“The same reports that I did even when they hired you because I didn’t give a damn about protocol,” he said. “Did you think your daily report was all there was?”

He glared.

“I told Jordan I didn’t have a problem with continuing to do them so long as  _ you _ okay’d it… since they are  _ your _ responsibility after all. _ ” _

Halle swallowed, thinking that Scott would be calm now that TC had told him how it was, the truth that would be the end of it, but it seemed that Scott was out for blood. Blood that TC seemed oddly calm about him attempting to take as he went on about the award, about Gwaine, about Jordan and apparently playing with her head and TC’s general insubordination, though it had been months, even before he was put on leave, that TC had done anything subversive beyond telling Jordan if she didn’t stop with the snide remarks he’d walk away from San Antonio Memorial.

“Well, what do you have to say for yourself?”

“Scott,” TC said softly looking at the shorter man, whose eyes were bright with fury. “She doesn’t know how.”

Scott’s eyes widened, his jaw dropped in shock, officially stunned. Scott released him and stepped back staring at TC like some impossible thing.

“What?”

“She doesn’t know how,” he said again and turned to walk around Scott and meet Halle at the end of the hall.

“I’m proud of you,” she said, kissing his cheek.

“Seems like you’ve made me grow up a bit Halle.”

Halle shook her head, “No TC, just forgive yourself.”

TC swallowed and nodded.

Yeah, he’d definitely forgiven himself for a lot of things. 


	23. You’re Wearing Our Vintage Misery,

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A long overdue heart to heart...But first--family drama!

TC groaned and thanked every god he knew of for the glorious woman, currently in next to nothing rolling the tension out of his shoulder. He isn’t sure why the hell he was so sense, but he bet it had something to do with the odd atmosphere at the hospital since the “Staff Appreciation” Event. Apparently, some people were rethinking their position on TC knowing that Gwaine was basically signing everyone’s paycheck with the merge.

“Feel good?”She asked for what seemed the third time in the last minute.

“You’re a goddess,” he groaned. “Stop fishing for compliments.”

Her heart tripped and her hands stilled for a second too long. TC frowned and sat up to look at her as she looking at him. For a moment, he thinks he’s offended her, but it’s the dazed look in her eyes that tells him differently. 

_ Fuck. _

He swallowed and took her hands gently, “You’re safe. You’re home. Babe, can you hear me?”

It takes a while for her to come around, but when she does, she’s shivering and TC is cursing himself. 

“Babe, I’m sorry. Fuck, let me hold you? Is that okay?”

She nodded shakily and let him tug her close, grabbing for the blanket they’d kicked off her bed during the night and pulling it around them to cuddle her close. Her hands were freezing, she shook. He’d never seen such acute shock before and was considering rushing her to the bathroom for a warm bath, but she relaxed slowly, slumping against him and nuzzling into his chest. 

“I’m sorry,” he said again. “I said something didn’t I?”

“It’s okay.”

“It’s not okay,” he said, firmly. She whimpered and he bit his lip, squeezing her closer. “It’s not okay that I triggered you, sweetheart. Okay?”

She took in a shuddering breath and nodded, “S-sorry… I didn’t think…”

TC pressed a kiss to her forehead, “You have nothing to apologize for. Do you want to talk about it?”

Halle shook her head and he nodded in understanding, “Not right now.”

“Okay, I’ll be here when you want to.”

She smiled lightly, “Using my own trigger cures against me?”

“They’re fantastic,” he quipped. “I’m pretty sure that aside from Gwaine and Drew, no one has brought me out of an episode as fast as you do.”

Halle sighed and closed her eyes.

“Thank you,” he said. “Your hands are magic.”

She smiled, “I’m glad.”

“You really are a goddess, you know.” He said nuzzling her gently. “A shea butter scented goddess.”

She laughed loud and helpless because really, how could she not?

*

Cinaed regarded Brooklyn from their bed, watching her double check her bag as if she hadn’t done so the night before. She was stalling it seemed and he was waiting for her to figure it out, hoping that she would even though a part of him knew she wouldn’t admit it. It was a battle that they’d been fighting since they met, a part of their marriage that they still struggled with. 

She was so independent, so strong that she didn’t really know how to let go, to sit down and take solace in him until it was almost too late. He hated waiting, but had learned rather quickly that trying to force her to just come to him would do more harm than good. 

The problem was that when it came to Brooklyn’s family, her sisters more specifically, her stress levels were almost unpredictable. There was so much that Brooklyn hadn’t said about her familial relationships that Cinaed was beginning to realize.

The wedding wasn’t for another month, and they’d flown back to New York to handle some business and play catch up until she had to be back for the final preparations. Honestly, she could have come the week before, but this was her brother’s wedding, the only wedding of her family that she’d ever planned for the brother who’d been like a second father to her. Of course she was nervous, she was nervous for every wedding, wanting it to be a day to remember for all time for the bride and groom…

The way her wedding day was a day to remember. He looked over to their bedside table to where their wedding picture stood. He had one on his desk at the office, and he knew she had one as well. The Brooklyn in the photo was six years younger, but looked no different than now, better than that she was so happy, carefree, smiling from the circle of his arms. 

He’d placed it there as a reminder, something he could see every time he woke up that there was nothing more important to him than making sure his marriage worked…. He’d never seen himself so happy as he saw himself on his wedding day. He’s pretty sure that there won’t be another day like that until they had children… If they had children anyway. 

“Baby,” Cinaed started looking at the picture and she turned to him. He held out a hand mindlessly and waited until she took it  and  drew her into his lap to hold her. 

“Breathe.”

She took a stuttering breath. 

“Again.”

She took another one and he felt her relax a little more against him. 

“The flight won’t leave the concourse without us, sweet,” he said.

“Private jet? I thought--”

“I knew you’d need the time,” he said. “And I couldn’t trust you to ask for it.”

She looked down shamed, but he kissed her forehead, “You don’t have to go right now. We can wait.”

“No, I need to go now,” she said. “Or I won’t go.”

Cinaed nodded, “Okay.”

Brooklyn let out a breath, “I just… I’m tired of fighting.”

“Then don’t.”

“You don’t--’’

“Don’t,” he repeated. “There’s nothing wrong with leaving when you want to. You think I won’t leave with you?”

She huffed, “As if you wouldn’t.”

He chuckled, “Of course not. I’ve worked hard to be able to share a bed with you for the rest of my life.”

She nodded, “Don’t you regret it sometimes?”

“Never,” he said looking at her as she looked at him, searching for something maybe. Whatever she found made her smile and hug him. 

“Thank you,” she said into the curve of his shoulder. “I know… I’m a lot.”

He squeezed her tightly and let out a sigh, falling back to pull her on top of him, “You’ve got a lot of body. I wouldn’t call you a lot to handle.”

She glowered at him as he tucked a twist behind her ear, that tender expression that melted her every time on his face as if she were his whole world. Perhaps, one day, she’d realize that she really was his whole world.

“You need love and attention just like anyone else,” he said gently and kissed the tip of her nose. “And you demand it. That doesn’t make you a lot-- that makes you a person who knows what she wants and deserves.”

She smiled and let out a breath, “Okay… we can go now.”

He chuckled and sat up, letting her stand before standing up himself. He grabbed their suitcases and hefted his duffle back onto his shoulder before taking her hand and leading her out of the house. They arrived at the time he said for them to be ready to leave and he got her on to the plane rather easily, sitting across from her and stretching out as she did the same. 

She smiled at him, “I’ll be okay.”

He nodded, “I have no doubt… but I’m here too.”

She nodded, “I know.”

When they land in San Antonio, they check in at the hotel and leave their bags in their suite before climbing into the car and heading towards Halle’s house where Victoria’s bridal party were meeting to discuss the Bachelorette Party. Cinaed kissed her at the door and told her he’d pick her up if only she called.

“I’ll get Halle to drive me over,” she said. “I’ll be fine.”

He smiled and nodded before turning the car towards Timothy’s house and hoping that everything didn’t backfire on them. 

*

TC really should have known that if Damien invited him that there was probably something insane about to happen. He’s pretty sure he hadn’t seen that many ex and current military guys, in and out of uniform, in one place since a Veteran’s bar. The cafe was filled with noise, alcohol at the bar as well as their usual wares, a banquet table set out. 

“T’! Over here man,” Damien called out to him and Tc headed his way. 

“What is going on?”

“My old man’s getting married. Because he’s so damn old the Bachelor party is tame.”

TC snorted turning to see a line of older veterans taking shots at the bar, the cheers that went up.

“Tame...not exactly what I would have called this.”

Damien laughed, “Well, we can’t risk someone breaking a hip.”

“But you know Uncle J’ is going to try,” Alexander said nodding towards said Uncle who was… doing something, TC was sure. He wasn’t sure if he should call it dancing since the man was clearly too drunk to do so.

“I still got it!”

Benjamin shook his head, “This mofo… know he ain’t got nothing but a bad back.”

“Ain’t you a bit too old to be turning up like that Uncle J’?” Damien asked. “Might slip a disc.”

He laughed, “You just mad cause you ain’t got it like I got it.”

Damien snorted, “Old age, broke down, and still paying child support. Yeah… real jealous.”

TC snorted and shook his head, asking the bartender for a glass of whiskey.

Uncle J’ only rolled his eyes and slung his arm around  Damien’s shoulders, “One day, you’ll be as lucky as me. You know, Luck of the Irish.”

“Bailey’s doesn’t count,” Benjamin said. “And while one of us probably has some Irish in him, you sure as hell don’t.”

He glowered at his nephews as TC laughed, “I’m pretty sure I’m the unluckiest Irish man in the world, no worries.”

Alexander laughed, “What happened to your girlfriend?”

TC grinned, “I like to put that firmly in the category of “I Worked For It”.”

“Nah, you’re lucky,” David told him.

“Lucky she hasn’t killed me yet, maybe,” TC chuckled. “So… where’s the man of the hour anyway?”

Camden arrived and took a seat, demanding a double shot. 

“What’s wrong, Cam’?”

Camden shook his head, rubbing his face, clearly tired, “Uncle D’, just arrived.”

“Oh? Where’s B’?”

“With Potato,” Camden said. “You think she didn’t need a break from the Bakers at large after the Aunt Squad and our sisters acted a fool?”

David nodded, “Fair.”

TC turned and the man who was shaking hands with someone looked over and waved.

“You know Uncle D’?”

“Gwaine!”

TC snorted, “Not really.”

Cinaed clapped him on the shoulder and then frowned, “You... cut your hair?”

“No, just the wrong twin.”

He laughed, “So you’re the infamous doctor brother who stole his face. I’m Cinaed, nice to meet you.”

TC shook his hand and grinned, “Nice to meet you as well. Helios right? The one with the bombshell for a wife?”

Cinaed snorted, “Of course that’s what Gwaine relates to you. Yes, that’s me.”

TC nodded. At some point, he gets introduced to more Uncles with only letters to identify them by, the man of the hour, one Timothy Baker, and drinks enough to know that it’s a very tame party. They go bar hopping for fun’s sake TC assumes and he’s pretty sure that a group of military veterans and active duty people shouldn’t be allowed to raid every bar on the strip, but they do anyway. 

*

Halle placed a drink in Brooklyn’s hand as soon as she came in the door and directed her towards where the chocolate was. 

“How’d you know?”

“Uncle D’ warned me,” she said pleasantly. Brooklyn took a seat beside Victoria who looked just about ready to punch someone as well. 

“It’s been pretty rough all around it seems,” Halle said. Brooklyn looked around the room realizing that there were only four women in the room and wondered what the hell happened. 

“They cancelled on me,” Victoria said. “At the last possible minute.”

Brooklyn’s eyes widened, “You’re… kidding.”

She shook her head, “Nope. Wish I was though.”

Brooklyn sat back with a sigh, “Okay...well, who are your back-ups?”

“Unfortunately,” Victoria said wryly. “Halle’s sisters.”

Brooklyn let out a breath, “We could simply shrink the wedding party.”

Halle laughed, “Probably. I think Damien wouldn’t mind slipping out of a tuxedo.”

Brooklyn shook her head, “That boy knows he’s a fool.”

“Sorry,” Victoria said over another glass of wine. “I know this isn’t your usual planning issue.”

Brooklyn snorted, “Hardly a problem, so we cut the wedding party down significantly and get better dresses for it or something.”

Victoria laughed and nodded, her matron of honor seemingly fuming on the couch across from her. 

“I cannot believe them.”

Victoria shrugged, “Some people just just aren’t the friends you thought.”

Halle nodded, probably. Considering that it was just the four of them, Halle made the executive decision that Victoria’s Bachelor party could commence as usual once a few changes to reservations were made. 

They went out to dinner at a better restaurant and laughed, almost glad for the smaller party of sensible women. 

“Tomorrow is the collective meet and greet with the families,” Brooklyn said looking at Victoria, “How are you feeling about that?”

“Oh, my Mom’s more excited than I am. She swore up and down I’d never get married. I’m pretty sure she loves Timothy more than I do at this point.”

Brooklyn snorted.

“It also helps that he comes with already grown grandchildren and a few great grandchildren,” Victoria said. “I don’t even have to hear the kids talk. It’s perfect.”

Brooklyn swallowed for a moment, setting her drink down and contemplating the exchange from their bedroom in New York. Cinaed had been looking at the wedding photo, how happy they were in it, not looking at her… 

What had he been thinking?

That night, they lie in the hotel bed together and while the quality of the mattress isn’t the level of comfort that she’s used to, that isn’t what’s keeping her awake. 

“I can hear your brain turning a million miles a minute,” Cinaed said into the dark and she flinched looking up at him. He reached out to turn on the light and loko at her. 

“I... thought you were asleep.”

“How can I be with your brain going the way it is.”

She let out a breath and curled into him as he turned to lounge on his side and look at her. 

“What wrong?” He asked gently. “This isn’t about the wedding.”

“What were you thinking about? When you were looking at the photo on the bedside table?”

Cinaed hummed, “That I’m pretty sure there may never be a day in my life I would be happier than then… except for kids maybe.”

Brooklyn worried her lip, “Do you… want children? We… never really talked about it.”

Never mind that they’d gotten married relatively late in life after dating for years. He’s pretty sure that when they’d met Brooklyn really thought she was significantly older than he was or… perhaps she’d just, as she said, had a mild aversion to blonde hair after the “last time”. He wasn’t sure. They were edging towards fifty now, wealthy enough to afford everything they’d ever wanted, whenever they wanted… Cinaed had taken to donating his entire salary to charities that supported orphans, battered women, and women in general. 

“I remember you saying you had an aversion to such talks,” he said teasingly and realized quickly that she wasn’t joking. 

“Right...I…”

“Brooklyn,” he said, taking her hand. “Jokes aside. Where is this coming from?”

“Well… I was talking with Victoria and…”she shook her head and fell back. 

That was a lie. She hadn’t just started thinking about it because of Victoria… She thought about it when Halle’s mother died. She thought about it when Cinaed told her he was an orphan. She thought about it when she was in the shower sometimes, trying to muffle her sobbing on Mother’s Day because Halle’s mother was gone and Halle wasn’t the only one who looked up to her for maternal guidance.

It wasn’t that Brooklyn had always wanted children, or even thought of them as a way to bring more meaning to her life (whatever that meant)... it was just… 

She wanted…

She didn’t even really know. She wasn’t sure if “children” just seemed like the answer because everyone said it was or if it was really the answer anymore. Cinaed watched her slowly, taking in her expression and the look in her eyes. He licked his lips.

“Yes,” he said honestly and she looked at him. “But… I know it’s more because… I want a family of my own and I’m not sure if I’d be any good at either...”

_ Given his lack of experience _ , she could almost hear in his voice and she sat up to take his hand.

“I think you’d be a great father,” she said. “And you’re totally a family man.”

“I think you’d be a great mother,” he quipped and she flinched. “That’s what the concern is, isn’t it?”

She swallowed, “I… I don’t want to be her. I don’t want to treat anyone like a bargaining chip or a weapon.”

Cinaed hugged her close.

“I know how… cold I can be and I don’t want to ever expose any one, especially not my own child to that knowing how… deep those scars can run. I don’t want anything to… to ruin this either. They say people change when there’s a kid involved.”

Cinaed nodded, “Hormones and such?”

She swatted him and he laughed, kissing her cheek.

“There are options, sweet,” Cinaed said. “If you’re wary about having a kid… and I would hardly call you cold.”

“Are you calling me old?” She asked with a teasing smile. “Or saying you don’t want to give up sex for nearly a year plus depending on my mood?”

He met her eyes, “I’m saying that you can’t hold such a thing over someone’s head when you haven’t done it.”

She looked away and almost regretted telling him the very interesting words of her childhood and groaned.

“Why are we having this conversation?”

“Because it’s clearly bothering you.”

She pouted, “Why can’t you be an inattentive husband?”

“Because I’d lose you.”

Brooklyn gave him a smile and squeezed his hand, “You think… we could adopt a kid with your  _ reputation?” _

“I think if we decided to adopt they’d wonder why we hadn’t done it sooner given my reputation.”

Cinaed pulled her closer and leaned her against him, “Everything’s an option, if only you would relax.”

“I will… as soon as it’s all over. I promise.”

Cinaed nodded and pulled her back down to the bed before turning off the light and cuddling her close.

“I love you, Brooklyn,” he said gently, a kiss to her forehead as she sighed. “Anything you want, it’s yours.”

“Anything huh?”

“If it’s possible,” he said. “I’ll figure it out. I hear my inner street kid is quite resourceful.”

*

There was something about the entire affair that told Halle that it wasn’t going to end well. The family get together was happening in a park, somewhere for the kids to run around and play, the adults to mingle not too far from the action and everyone could be comfortable. Halle came dressed for the weather and to run around with the kids, the catering team had arrived early and set up according to Brooklyn’s plan. Brooklyn and Cinaed arrived not even ten minutes after Halle did and something told her that it was going to go south rather quickly.

“Oh, so now you’re good enough to come down?”

Brooklyn tensed, Cinaed felt it along her side and pressed her more firmly against him.

“Where have you been all this time? It’s been years and we haven’t heard anything from you, but you just show up with… whoever this white guy is? Really?”

She knew from the tone and the words which sister it is. She also knew that the rest of them were here too, maybe her mother was there, she had no idea, but Brooklyn turned, stepping out of Cinaed’s reach and Halle winced.

“It’s nice to see you too, Jas’,” Brooklyn greeted meeting the woman’s eyes even as she just looked her over, a dismissive sound coming from her.

“So what are you here for?” She asked. “Who’s he?”

Brooklyn took a deep breath, “My brother asked me to plan his wedding. That’s why I’m here. And this is my husband, Cinaed.”

“Husband?” She asked eyes narrowing. “You ain’t get married.”

“Bet you the ring on my hand I did.”

“You ain’t tell nobody. You ain’t get married.  What did he do, knock you up?”

“That would be you,” she said glaring at her. “Without the ring. Where is Dante anyway? Shouldn’t you be tending your  _ kids _ .”

“They’re with their Dads,” she said flippantly and looked at Cinaed. “You couldn’t find a better black girl wherever you’re from?”

“Nope,” Cinaed said honestly. “Brooklyn is the best.”

“Must be a limited supply.”

“Are you done?” Brooklyn asked, glaring at her. “Cause I’m about done with you.”

She sucked on her teeth, “You just show the hell up out of nowhere, like some damn Queen of Sheba toting this white man around like you own the place and suddenly you too good to answer a damn question?”

“Jas’,” Brooklyn said evenly. “Don’t start with me.”

“What are you going to do? Break a nail—“

_ CRACK! _

Cinaed’s eyes widened not fast enough to stop her, not paying enough to know he needed to until “Jas’” was sprawled out on the floor, unconscious and Brooklyn stood her appropriate height glaring at the rest of the women who’d advanced.

“You can get it too,” she said simply and they dispersed.  Timothy shook his head and hung it as Halle’s brothers clapped.

“Whoo!”

“We’ve been waiting for that for a while, Aunt B’.”

“She deserved it.”

Cinaed looked at Brooklyn as she went to the refreshments table and pulled out a bottle of water. Cinaed took her hand to check it, running his fingers over it.

“J’, P.J., could you get Jasmine off the floor and something for her face?”

“After you broke it?” one of them asked. “I guess.”

“She ain’t gon’ live this one down.”

“B’,” Timothy started. “You know they’re going to say for years you only came down here to punch Jas’ in the face at last right?”

“I’m sure,” Brooklyn said calmly and took a breath. “Luckily, that was taken care of before Victoria and company arrived. Would hate for your soon-to-be in-laws to think we’re completely unable to get along.”

Timothy snorted. Given what Victoria had told him of her family, I think that would have been the least of his worries. 

“So Halle,” Benjamin started looking over to their sisters. “Who are you punching at the next major family event?”

Halle shoved him, “Shut up.”

“Just an honest question.”

*

“Can’t remember the last time I went to a wedding…” Gwaine said looking in the mirror and straightening his tie. T.C. snorted. 

“That’s because you’ve never been to a wedding,” T.C. said looking at him. 

Gwaine nodded, “That’s fair.”

They looked at one another and Merlin watched in an idle fascination as they gave each other that approving nod, their suits made by the same brand. 

“You two look like a matching set.”

“That’s the plan,” T.C. said with a grin. “If Gwaine already knows Halle’s family, then at the very least I have a chance to not get pummeled.”

Merlin shook his head, “I don’t think you have to worry about getting pummeled. Shouldn’t you be getting going?”

T.C. nodded and grabbed the directions before heading towards the door. Gwaine kissed Merlin and squeezed his ass on the way out, making the man flush and shove him. 

The drive out to the venue wasn’t nearly as long as they expected. Cars parked neatly everywhere. T.C. and Gwaine climbed out and headed up towards the venue. Timothy’s invitation had specified no gifts unless they were in envelopes. T.C. could only laugh because they clearly didn’t listen and neither did Gwaine. 

“T.C.?”

He turned and frowned seeing Alexander there in his slim cut suit looking at him curiously. 

“One, why are there two of you? Two, why are you here?”

“Erm...Well, this is my brother Gwaine.” T.C. said, “And… I’m here for my girlfriend’s father’s wedding…”

Gwaine looked between the two of them, shaking Alexander’s hand with a mischevious smile. 

Alexander frowned, “Who’s…. What’s your girl’s name again? I don’t think… you ever said…”

“Halle,” he said. “Halle Martin.”

Alexander’s eyes widened and he turned. 

“Trouble!” he called out. 

“Yes?” Halle asked serenely, appearing in her bridemaids dress looking as… amazing as ever with her hair twisted up and fall flower accents. 

He almost forgot what he was supposed to be saying seeing her. Then, Alexander moved in his peripheral and it all came back with a startling clarity.

“T.C., Gwaine,” she greeted and went to her brother. “What’s wrong Alex’?”

He pointed at Gwaine, “This… this is your boyfriend? This one?”

She moved his hand to point at T.C., “That one’s my boyfriend. The other is my boyfriend’s brother.”

“Eight brothers…” T.C.  said feeling the dots connect. 

The strapping officer had been Camden. The group of army men.. Benjamin,... David…

_ I’ve already met her father... _

He looked at her as Alexander took her by the shoulders a little panicked. 

“You can’t be dating T’! Pick someone else!”

T.C.’s stomach dropped. 

“We like T’, we don’t want to have to ride up to his place and beat the snot out of him.”

“Then don’t,” Halle said easily, patting his shoulder. “There will be no beating the snot out of anyone, Alex’, now go find your seat.”

He looked back at T.C. with a sad look, “We were supposed to ruin your life. We can’t ruin T’s life…”

T.C. blinked and then looked at Halle, taking in her fond expression, “You knew…”

Halle looked at him, “Knew?”

“The guys at the coffee shop... You knew I’d met your family already.”

Halle nodded, “I did.”

“You… are in so much trouble,” he said taking her hand. Gwaine laughed, waving them off in the direction that they headed and went to go find Timothy, Cinaed, Brooklyn, and his seat. 

“Gwaine, you… wait… how are you here?”

“I think my brother is dating your niece,” Gwaine said. “And apparently, she’s in trouble.”

*

TC found a closet and opened it, assessing it for enough room before ushering her in ahead of him. She didn’t look remotely repentant. 

“Halle,” he began and looked at her. “Have you any idea why you’re in so much trouble?”

“I… could guess.”

His eyes narrowed and he gave her a flat look, “You know your brothers wanted to jump me upon meeting me?”

“They wouldn’t.”

“You didn’t think to mention that I’d met them before? I shaved!”

Halle laughed shaking her head and going to him, “I told you that they’d love you and they do, you’ve practically been adopted after your birthday.”

He glowered at her and a slow smile spread, “Turn around.”

She blinked, her jaw trembled and their eyes met. For a moment, she wants to ask what that look is for but the heat in his eyes tells her everything and she relaxed. She turned around as he asked and let him place her hands on the wall.

“So much trouble,” he said. “But this will have to do for now.”

Halle worried her lip but he kissed her cheek tenderly before tugging her dress up to her waist and her panties down.

“Not a sound,” TC said. “Wouldn’t want to get caught now would we?”

She shook her head, already panting, squirming and nervous. TC watched her for a moment, the anticipation growing beneath her skin and he tried to decide if he wanted her to be able to sit down or not.

_ Not, _ is what he decided on and grinned, pulling back to land the first smack.

*

Brooklyn could only give her a knowing look as Halle reappeared, the bouquet in her hands, her eyes bright and she seemed a little too happy.

“Had a few shots without us?” Brooklyn asked, amused.

Halle only stuck her tongue out at her in the most mature way possible before the wedding procession was set to begin.

“Very military looking, Beanstalk,” she said looking up at her brother.  “Bet the boyfriend enjoys getting you out of it.”

“When were you going to tell anyone that T.C. was your boyfriend?” Camden asked. “You know you poked a very large hole in their  _ threatening Halle’s boyfriend scheme. _ ”

She laughed, “At the wedding. And I know.”

Camden shook his head. Halle was anything if not sneaky.

Somehow, no one managed to trip down the aisle. No one stood up to protest, it went well. Victoria and Timothy seemed to be over the moon happy about the entire affair and that was all Brooklyn could have asked for. Halle watched them dancing at the reception, feeling an odd sort of warmth. It’s kind of like watching Cinaed and Brooklyn’s wedding all over again.

“He looks happy,” TC said, standing beside her a goblet of water in his hand.

“He is,” she said smiling. “I’m glad for it.”

TC slid an arm around her waist, “Are you okay?”

She let out a sigh, “I’m… I’m okay.”

TC nodded, “Your Aunt B’ seems to be glowing.”

“B’ punched her sister about two weeks ago.”

“Maybe you should punch someone today.”

“No,” she nudged him. “It’s Dad and Victoria’s day.”

TC hummed and looked over to where Gwaine was speaking with Cinaed and Brooklyn before they took to the floor, then over to the group of men who seemed to be convening to come over and talk to them.

“Are they trying to figure out a way to kill me?”

“Yes, but they love you too much.”

TC nodded solemnly and they watched the group of men grab her father and head towards them. TC tensed and Halle leaned her head on his shoulder.

“Hi Dad,” she greeted. “I see you and the new Mrs. Victoria cutting up on the dance floor.”

He looked at Halle and smiled, “It happens that way…. So… Halle…”

She hummed, “Yes, Daddy-O…”

“This is him?”

Halle nodded, “This is him.”

“T.C….” he started.

“Yes?”

“This is her?”

T.C. grinned, all charm and joy, “Yeah… this is her.”

Timothy nodded and pat him on the shoulder, “Take care of my daughter or I’ll skin you for luck.”

TC looked at him, a little confused by man’s oddly tender expression, but nodded, “I promise.”

Timothy nodded, “Good, I’m expecting to walk at least one of my daughters down the aisle one day.”

TC flushed and Halle’s eyes widened, “Dad!”

He laughed and shook his head, “What? An old man can’t have aspirations?”

Halle rolled her eyes, “Keep them to yourself.”

He grinned and hugged her tight, “I’m happy for you, sweetheart.”

She squeezed him back, “I’m happy for you too. Now go dance with your wife.”

He grinned and kissed her cheek before turning to his sons, “You’re only allowed to skin him if she asks.”

Damien pouted, “It has to be really bad though, who else am I going to party with as hard?”

“Someone else who hates neckties I guess,” TC said and Halle laughed.

“Play nice, I’m getting something to drink.”

She kissed TC’s cheek and walked away. Damien sighed.

“I suppose… if it was a woman like Baby Girl, I could deal with a necktie.”

TC snorted, “You wouldn’t pull a woman like Halle.”

Damien glowered at him but then he noticed a flash of purple heading towards Halle and winced, “Well… I think it’ll be right now that Halle gets her moment to punch a sister.”

TC turned and moved but Damien stopped him, “Trust me. You don’t want to go over there.”

To her credit, Halle didn’t cry. She must have grown up terribly. Tears of that caliber usually came with blood rage. She was just angry now looking at Patricia and Jamie, the ring leaders of the eight sisters. Her mind took in the fact that they were angry that she and Brooklyn were in the wedding, but they weren’t. The bridal shower and so many other things, but she wasn’t paying attention until they brought up TC.

“Just like Auntie B’ think you’re –“

“Are you done?” She asked, Jamie, her eyes cutting to her. “Because I was done before you came over here.”

Jamie looked at her, “You—“

“Done,” Halle said taking her drink and turning. “Now, if you’d like to be done  _ and _ a bloody heap on the ground, you are free to keep talking.”

Patricia looked at though she was going to say something but her eyes looked to Halle’s hand looking at the glass there and then to her eyes. They’d never quite seen this face on her, but something told them not to test it. So they marched off and slowly Halle relaxed. She turned back towards TC.

“Everything okay?”

She nodded, “Just fine.”

“One day Halle,” Damien said. “You’re going to knock their lights out.”

“Maybe.”

*

TC looked up as the door opened.

“Didn’t know this was an office,” Scott said coming. “You have a minute?”

TC looked at him and slid his keyboard aside and waited as Scott took in the room. It was rather cramped, the desk was small, the computer looked old, the keyboard looked rather battered. The couch was old. There was a rack that looked to be left over from the room’s days as a storage closet.

“What can I do for you, Dr. Clemmens?”

Scott moved to sit down in the chair across the desk from TC and swallowed. TC waited patiently as Scott opened his mouth and closed it repeatedly. He would smile, but it was clear that Scott wasn’t really sure what the hell had brought him to go look for TC’s office, let alone the man he’d wanted to skin alive at some point. 

TC decided to be an adult and ask, “If this is about wanting to skin me alive, or firing me, shouldn’t there be witnesses present?”

Scott stammered, “No that’s not…”

Scott’s voice faded off as their eyes met, TC’s twinkling mischievously.

“You’re messing with me.”

“Yes,” TC said. “Thought it might break the fish mouth thin you had going.”

Scott flushed and TC only grinned at, “Funny.”

TC shrugged, “Sometimes I do have a sense of humor that isn’t incredibly macabre. So, Dr. Clemmens, or am I talking to Scott?”

“Scott.”

“Scott,” TC said. “Hi, I’m TC. What can I do for you?”

Scott let out a breath, “I… get the feeling that I misjudged you…”

TC waited and Scott swallowed. Scott was of the same social class as Jordan. He didn’t get into John Hopkins like she had, but he’d also come from a family of doctors. For what TC could tell of him, he’d had everything handed to him without question. 

“So… I can’t understand you.”

“Me?” TC asked. 

“I couldn’t understand you... And Jordan… and… the hospital… “

TC smirked, “Well.. quite honestly, when you got here I wasn’t exactly in a place to be understood.”

Scott looked at him, trying to figure out if TC was joking, but he couldn’t see it. He’d noticed something over the last year, a shift in TC’s demeanor, but he hadn’t been able to put his finger on it. He still didn’t understand.

The TC he’d met had punched Ragosa in a bathroom, knocked him out. Had been toying with Jordan’s head, maybe… but he wasn’t sure exactly what all of that seeing this almost… serene TC where there had only been arrogance (maybe) and something else.

“What happened to you?” Scott asked peering at him as if never really seeing him before.

TC hummed and glanced to the thermos on his desk.

_ Keep Calm And Save Lives. _

“Someone made it worth while,” TC said. “To care about something again.”

Scott looked at the thermos, “Jordan?’

TC shook his head, “No. Jordan... Jordan couldn’t do that for me. Not sure why, not sure what it was between us that—“

“Where did you meet Jordan?” Scott asked, peering at him confused. “There are a lot of things that haven’t added up around this hospital since I arrived and a lot of it has to do with you?”

“How’d a doctor with a degree from some no name university was still being kept despite his numerous infractions?” TC asked.

“Well… yes.”

TC snorted, “It doesn’t matter where Jordan and I met. I had a record for being damn good in a crisis. San Antonio needed anyone who would work for the salary they could afford at the time. I… needed something that was close enough to war that I wouldn’t have to move on, something that would drain me until I couldn’t think.”

Scott licked his lips, “I… can’t understand that, TC. Why are you here?”

“Why am I here or why am I still here?”

Scott worried his lip, “Are you telling me that you’re thinking about quitting?”

He laughed, “Thinking? Scott, I thought about quitting or forcing Ragosa to fire me for months but it never happened. You think clearly self-destructive behavior wasn’t a plea for someone to stop me?”

Scott swallowed and ventured the question, “Why… didn’t you just… stop?”

TC smiled, “A man with the kind of skeletons I have doesn’t feel that he deserves to stop.”

TC picked up his thermos contemplating the words and the near weightlessness of it, “Not until he’s offered an option to lose something worth more than his skeletons at least.”

He chuckled, “Until someone’s okay with his skeletons and lets him know that he should be too.”

Scott swallowed.

“I made amends with myself, Scott,” he said. “But… something tells me you aren’t here to figure out if I’m going to turn in my two week notice or just quit…I didn’t think the ER reports were that difficult to pull together.”

Scott glowered at him, “No… I…”

“I told you before that she doesn’t know how,” he said easily. “Maybe you can teach her, but talking to me isn’t going to answer your questions—“

“We went to dinner, breakfast, brunch… with her family,” he said suddenly. “And… I… they… well… I don’t think they really… understand Jordan… or maybe…”

Scott shook his head, “You’ve… met them haven’t you?”

TC snorted, “Oh yeah. The Alexanders…. I’ve met them.”

“Well, what do you think?”

“Even you would need a couple of shots to deal with them,” he said. “And you’re from that circle. Poor TC, barely above white trash to them? I regretted not having at least half a bottle of whiskey before.”

Scott chuckled, “They… are rather trying.”

TC shrugged, “They don’t know any better. They like you though, so they won’t give you a hard time.”

“They… didn’t like you?”

“Oh no,” TC said. “Jordan probably made them think that I was something I wasn’t, just like she thought I was something I wasn’t it. Put us all on a slippery downward slope after that.”

Scott nodded oddly refreshed when the door opened and Drew stuck his head in.

“Message from the front line: T’, tests at the front for you. Dr. Clemmens, there’s a call at the front for you.”

TC stood up, “Duty calls.”


	24. So Dance Alone To The Beat Of Your Heart.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's just a bad sign when Sindia is sick but still comes into work.

TC walked out of his office trying to wrap his head around everything he’d told Scott. It hadn’t been a lie, he knew that much, but he wasn’t sure what it meant now that he could admit it out loud… 

He’d spent years in these halls thinking that there was nothing else and now….

He just wasn’t sure anymore. 

TC shook his head. Today had been a strange day all together really. Sindia had been late, stumbling around in a daze until she finally just collapsed from a fever at the beginning of the shift. No one knew what the hell was wrong with her, but they quarantined her and ran a million tests. Halle had said that it wasn’t a good sign and TC had been inclined to believe her. He’d felt strange all day, somewhere in between fed up and on edge. 

“I’m sorry, sir, but I--”

“I could give a damn! Get the Head of ER out here now! You killed my wife--”

TC looked up to the sound of the yelling. An irate family member was never a good deal and the fact that the man was calling for the Head of ER was a bad deal. 

“Sir,--”

“Now!”

Scott came around the corner and all at once it happens. The ground shakes and the man in question isn’t the only one there running. Scott is tossed back down the hall with the force of the explosion and TC makes himself breathe and focus on the pattern of the San Antonio Memorial Hospital linoleum. 

It isn’t sand. 

It isn’t rock. 

It isn't then. 

It's now.

It's linoleum.

It’s San Antonio--a bomb went off in the lobby, not big enough to bring the hospital crumbling down, but big enough to seriously injure someone. Drew had been in the lobby along with who knew who else?

His legs moved before anything else caught up with him, his body slamming into the first man in the bullet-proof vest, aiming his gun upwards and slamming his elbow into the man’s throat as people screamed and rushed towards the doors that wouldn’t open. 

Where the hell was security? 

“Get him!”

TC moved, taking the gun and rolling away from the body, he tackled a nurse to the ground and shoved her under the desk as she sat shaking, before tearing his way down the hallway leading a good number of them away from the foyer where people were still shocked and dazed from the explosion. 

He heard the hospital’s warning systems telling people to evacuate and could have laughed as bullets flew past and he counted, pacing his breathing before checking the gun in his hand. Four shots, fuck. He turned, heading towards the OR to try the emergency exit door only to find them strapped and chained shut.

_ Fuck, _ he licked his lips and went to the OR board, searching for Halle’s name, for Drew, or Topher, for anyone else as another explosion went off. Shaking the foundation and blowing the doors off an ER. He paled, he was pretty sure that Halle as supposed to be in surgery right now.

He moved and found that the ER beside it opened, letting a flood of people out and among them was Halle, helping another nurse limp along.

“Hal’!”

She looked over and turned, lowering the woman down to the ground, “TC, what the hell is going on?”

“Have you seen Drew?” TC asked.

“He was supposed to be in surgery OR 4,” Halle said. “No doubt he never made it.”

“TC…?” She said weakly. “H-Halle?”

TC swallowed, tearing his scrub shirt to press against the woman’s leg, realizing slowly that it was Sindia. What the hell was she doing in the OR?

“Hey, Cindy,” Halle soothed. “We’re here, this is going to hurt, okay? Take my hand.”

She did so, squeezing hard as Halle tied the cloth around her leg as a tourniquet and a bandage until they could get her some actual help. TC grabbed the rolling chair and helped her into it as her head lolled to the side.

“Jayden…” she said weakly. “Drew…”

“Yeah?”

“T-Triage…”Halle worried her lip.

Triage was close to the foyer where the first explosion had come from, but if Sindia knew where they were there was a good chance that whatever told her when bad things were going to happen, was telling her that they were alive too.

“What about the other exits?”

TC shook his head, “They’re all locked up. They didn’t plan on letting anyone out.”

“The windows?” Halle asked. “Tie enough bed sheets together and someone can get out. Call someone?’

“TC,” Sindia said, grabbing for him and trying to stay conscious, still in the throes of a fever and something else from earlier that day. “You… you have to… you can’t…”

TC frowned, “It’s going to be alright, we’ll get you –“

“ _ They’ll kill you _ ,” Sindia said. “Go… left.”

Halle swallowed as she fell unconscious, maybe from the pain, maybe from the blood loss, maybe from whatever had had its claws in her from earlier that day but there was no telling. TC rolled her into the nearest room and got her on the gurney to elevate her leg and treat the wound as Halle kept look out.

“They’ve got jammers,” Halle said glaring at her phone. “No way to call out.”

TC cursed, what the hell was going on?

When Sindia was settled, he took Halle’s hand and led her out, walking in front and along the wall. The first went down easily, and Halle squeezed his hand. He squeezed back to let her know that yes, he was still there with her. Halle swallowed and felt something on the back of her neck. 

“TC!” She pulled him and all at once they spun and whirled out of the way it seemed. 

She expected a blast of pain somewhere in her body. She braced for it, but the only thing that came was the ground, rising up to meet her as she fell towards it.

_ TC had thrown her out of the way. _

Someone behind them and something else, noise and the feeling of the wall on her back. Her stomach dropped and TC’s body dove left and jerked. Once, twice, three times before he dropped to the ground. 

“TC…” she heard herself saying but watched her hands grab him by the shoulders and dragging him out of the hallway. The sound of footsteps and she grabbed the gun firing on the men rushing towards her. 

Just noise and the sound of TC’s pained breathing, his heartbeat, not the pain in her arm, nothing. 

“Nice… shot…” TC wheezed watching her. 

Her eyes wide glazed over and she moved with such practice, pressing against the wound for compression, her voice so far away and desperate.

“Didn’t know you … knew how to handle a gun,” TC said a part of him knowing that she couldn’t hear him as she dug through his pockets to find the little case she’d given him for Christmas, an emergency operating table, always sterile and she moved, so quick. If he didn’t know for sure, he would have sworn she was an army medic. The world swam around him and he could hear her voice. 

God, she was beautiful...

“Talk to me,” she said. “Keep talking to me. I’m here. I won’t leave you.”

Something above her head exploded and she didn’t even flinch. He wanted to reach up to pull her down, but found that he couldn’t. His body too heavy, everything slipping away so quickly. 

_ Shock, _ his mind supplied. He was going into shock…

He was…

He was...

“Get your hands in the air!”

She was... everything...

“TC! TC talk to me!”

“It’s okay,” TC panted as something else exploded and someone yelled for her to get her hands in the air. 

“Everything’s okay,” he said, wheezing around the pain. At least his lung wasn’t punctured… maybe it was all just body cavity?

No… he was losing too much blood… too fast. 

He was...

“You with me, Hal’?” He asked. Another light exploded, her lips moving, but he couldn’t hear her. Couldn’t hear anything. 

She was so strong.

He was...

“You with me, Halle? Babe?”

Her eyes are tearing over and a part of him knows that look. The inoperable, unsavable look and he smiled, oddly serene. He wondered, for a moment, if he had that look when Thad died on the ground… 

Wondered if his heart had stopped beating already…

Wondered if he deserved to see her… to have the woman he loved to be his last sight when Thad had only seen him.

He was dying.

And he loved her... Had he ever--

“I… love you,” he said, glad that… at least he’d had sense enough to say it since it would be his last chance. 

Wishing more than anything he could read lips as she ducked something and reached for something else and everything went black. 


	25. You Know Time Crawls On When You’re Waiting For the Song To Start.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Another long overdue heart to heart

Rick sat in the van with the rest of his S.W.A.T. team and forced himself to breathe, slow and easy. Placing the fact that there were people inside, in danger, the fact that Drew was inside and in danger...a ticking clock like a heartbeat running…. 

He had to focus. Had to focus on the task at hand otherwise everyone, including Drew, could end up just another number on a spreadsheet. 

His stomach turned at the thought. 

“Let’s move out!”

When they arrived, shields went up and they went through the doors, just like they practiced. No hostiles in the remains of the hospital, but gun shots down the corridor. 

“I said get up!”

“Wake up!” Halle screamed, charging the station again and shocking TC again, no longer sure what blood on the floor was his or hers. 

Pain along her side again, her shoulder, her leg-- someone’s hand in her hair and she screamed turning to swing up and dislodge the hand before turning back  to shock TC again. 

She couldn’t lose him, couldn’t lose someone again- -not like this… 

“Wake up!” She said shocking him again.

There’s light and sound whirling and slowly TC recognizes the tablecloth and the walls. It’s the Fourth of July. Annie isn’t expecting a thing, looking so down on the other side of the room, trying to cheer up when the doorbell rings and she gets up to get it since Regina is busy in the kitchen, balancing a toddler on her hip and swatting at a police officer to keep his hands away from the skewers. She screamed, leaping into the arms of Thaddeus, still in his fatigues and grinning happily, kissing her soundly and carrying her in the house. 

The year is 2009, he knows but he can only watch his brother come in, greet everyone. Watch him greet the TC and Gwaine across the room. 

He can almost feel the embrace when Thad turns, a version of him going to hug his mother, the other steering TC by his shoulders towards the front door and outside. It isn’t the street he grew up on but a long winding road—the path through the park the four of them would take home from school sometimes when they wanted to talk or just to tease whoever was on the block. It was usually Thad or Drew as they were the only two with any shame. 

It’s quiet, though, the sun and moon revolving over their head and it occurs to TC that, perhaps, they're walking down Memory Lane as he sees a teenaged TC and Gwaine punching the taste out of their father’s mouth and blocking his path so Drew could get Regina out of the house and call the police. 

There’s the four of them in Drew’s corner in the house, playing Go Fish. TC, Thad, and Drew at a base in Afghanistan…playing cards at Christmas with members of the police force and hustling them hard just to show that they didn’t approve of them trying to date Regina. Then there’s the sand and heat and TC stops, wanting to turn away before Thad grabbed him just as they break in the door. 

“You remembered it how you needed to remember it,” Thad said, holding him still and forcing him to watch himself hesitate, the kid hesitate, Thad, hesitate as they try to talk the kid into putting the gun down. 

The gunshot that had fired into Thad’s chest as the rest of the platoon opened fire into the house killing the kid and the woman who was in the shack with him. Thaddeus sliding down the wall as TC tried to get his fatigues open to assess the damage.

_ You’re going to be okay. _

_ Not even you can save me, T. _

“Stop beating yourself up, T,” Thad said from beside him, an arm around his shoulder as they watched the scene unfold. “I’m in a better place.”

_ Tell Annie, I should have listened… _

“No nightmares,” Thad said with a nod. “No black badges if you will.”

_ Tell Mom, I’m sorry… _

_ You’ll be alright, Thad. You’ll be alright! _

TC had gotten it open, there hadn’t been much blood, but enough to make him move faster. 

_ Just wasn’t as strong as you, T… _

“I like her a lot more than Jordan by the way,” Thad said as he could see Halle’s face above him, her twists coming down out of the knot, her eyes wide, tearing at his shirt—no gloves, no protocol, just battle-ground medicine and promises that he would be okay while she hyper-ventilated. She’s bleeding, blood crawling up and staining her shirt, sliding down her face as something else explodes over her head.

_ Wake up, bae. Please, TC. Wake up! _

“She’s got nuts,” Thad said approvingly. 

The memory melts away and Halle’s voice faded out as Thad turned him towards the dining room table and sat him down with a grin.

“I told Annie I wanted to name the kid,” Thad said. “Something Irish… I was surprised that she did… and Teagan of all things…”

He smiled a bit, looking towards the memory of Teagan, floating in the air, the way she’d looked at TC as he patched up her skinned knee with all the efficiency of an ER visit and three million times the charm.

“You take care of my baby girl,” he said. “She better not want for anything between you and Gwaine.”

TC snorted, Gwaine had already started a trust fund for her and had been practically taking care of Annie from the shadows since she left… Why no one decided to tell TC that Annie was still in contact and that Teagan existed—

“Because you weren’t ready to hear it,” Thad said. “Evident by the fact that you bought presents for everyone yet never made it to Christmas for four years.”

He winced, “Shove your face.”

Thad grinned, “Glad to see Drew is taking at least better care of himself.”

“It’s mostly Rick’s doing,” TC said with a shake of his head. “He still hasn’t learned to argue.”

“He’ll get there,” Thad said.

There’s the sound of something loud, a scream, pain and a twinge in his chest like hands pressing down hard. It gets louder just enough for him to hear another explosion, a scream of pain and Halle telling him to wake up. 

He could only smile softly at the sound. There would be no waking up for him...Not now...

“Sounds like war…” Thad said looking around as the world shifted again to the ER foyer, to the base they were stationed in, to the middle of the desert, and finally back to their childhood home. It’s so loud that TC winced at the sound. 

“Well,” Thad said, “It’s time to go.”

TC gets up to follow him to the front door. Thad pulled him in close, squeezing him tightly.

“I love you, T,” he said. “I’m proud of you and there’s nothing to forgive.”

TC squeezed him back, closing his eyes. He smelled just like always: warm, Old Spice (because he really liked the commercials) and sunlight. His eyes burn, but at least he’s seen him one last time before going to hell.

The house shook and TC frowned as Thad pulled back, “Off you go.”

“I guess we can’t all go with the angels,” TC said with a grin. “I love you, Thad.”

Thad snorted, “You can’t follow me just yet, little brother.”

He opened the door and shoved TC through it, “The next time I expect you to be balding.”

TC gawked at him-- horrified! His grandfather still had a full head of hair at the age of ninety. Thad laughed and it’s that laugh that sends him flying back through the darkness, where the ground shakes and the air screams. It’s hot like fire and there’s screaming that he can’t identify in his ears. 

His body gasped, his eyes opened and he’s shaking alive, looking at her though he isn’t fully conscious. She threw the paddles aside, checking the catheter in his arm, to be sure it held. The pressure on the wound, she needed suction to see. 

Someone cried out behind her as she scanned the hallway for a gurney. She found one, checking the bandages she’d managed and crawling towards it, forcing herself to stand and dragging it over. She saw Drew, bruised, bleeding, clutching his side roll off the man he’d tackled. A part of her understood that the man on the ground had been the one shooting at her, or at least the man who’d put his hand in her hair. Drew dragged himself up and headed towards her, the sound of boots on the ground making it all the more urgent that they hurry up. 

“I’ve got his torso,” he said, through gritted teeth. 

Halle nodded, and they managed to get TC up and onto the gurney. Together, leaning, half-pushing and half-riding the gurney they roll towards the nearest ER to the sound of TC’s weak breathing. 

There was still time if they just moved fast enough, stumbling over their own injuries to save his life. 

Where was everyone else?


	26. I’m Gonna Change You, Like A Remix;

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> the Storm Part 2

Rick and his squad finished the sweep for another bomb through every room before the reach the OR and he sees Drew, looking like he was in the explosion and Halle who looked like she’d been through her own brand of hell. They aren’t scrubbed in, hell as far as he can tell they need medical attention, but it’s clear why they aren’t paying attention to the amount of blood seeping to the floor from Halle’s pant leg when he recognizes the man on the table.

“ _ TC… _ ” he said and turned to his squad, “If we’re good, find another damn doctor and tell them that Dr. Callahan needs medical assistance,  _ now. _ ”

They moved faster than their feet could carry them and Rick pulled off part of his uniform to roll up his sleeves and remove his gloves.

“What can I do?” He asked and finally they realized that he was there. Drew directed him to grab the EKG and attached it to his finger, to grab bandages and whatever else that he could think of. Halle was saying something, but it wasn’t to him.

It was Krista who they found and Jayden who looked a little banged up but not nearly as bad as Drew and Halle. It’s just a flurry of movement before TC’s vitals even out, steady and he’s unconscious, breathing softly, patched up.

“Halle?” Jayden said trying to come close to her and reach out slowly as she stared at TC lost and not all there. “Halle sweetheart? Let’s get you looked at okay?”

Halle flinched away, keeping her hold on TC’s hand and waited, staring at him, waiting. She had to be awake. She had to be, had to be there to make sure that they did it right. That he’d be okay.

She couldn’t do it again.

She wouldn’t.

Someone was talking, another hand that she shoved away. She said something, but it was all so far away. Someone was grabbing her, she struggled, pulling away from them.

“Let me go! Let me—“

Jayden let out a breath, thankful that either the blood loss had overwhelmed the adrenaline at last or perhaps the sedative was a little faster than she first thought. Halle went limp reaching out for TC in Kenny’s hold. He and Topher managed to lift her up and carry her to a gurney as gently as possible. 

“Hell girl,” Kenny said looking at the blood he realized was hers and not TC’s. 

Ragosa was in charge of speaking with the journalists on the scene as the police taped off the area and made sure no one escaped for questioning. They let family members in, EMTs and such in. The foyer was a mess and there were plenty of people that worked for San Antonio that wouldn’t be back to work for Day or the Night Shift, never mind the repairs that would need to be done.

Ragosa could only shake his head, “What… why?”

It turned out that the last Head of ER lost the leader’s wife on the table, a simple case of drunk on the job and not paying attention to the perioperative sheet. The man in question had been plotting this for quite some time, not knowing that that Head of ER had been let go soon after the woman had died on the table. He and his accomplices would be taken in for questioning and eventual sentencing when it was all over, but none of that mattered as Ragosa was trying to figure out how to explain the damage done to the new board of San Antonio Memorial.

When Gwaine and Stephanie arrived to assess the damage, Ragosa opened his mouth and Gwaine raised his hand. 

“Unless you’re going to tell me where my brothers are, talk to Stephanie.”

Ragosa stammered and shut his mouth. Gwaine swallowed thickly and turned looking for a nurse who didn’t look like she’d been tossed around in the explosion while Stephanie got the details from Ragosa and then went to speak with Rick and the police officers on the scene. 

His stomach churned at the thought that Gwaine would have to tell Regina that he was the only son left.

“TC Callahan and Drew Alister?” Gwaine said, trying to keep his voice even. “Halle Martin?”

The nurse looked up a little dazed but dutifully went to go look through the paperwork they’d resorted to since the systems were still offline.

“Dr. Alister is in Room 230 and Dr. Callahan and Ms. Martin are in 410.”

Gwaine swallowed, “Could you… tell me how bad it is?”

She shook her head, “I’m not sure… I’m sorry.”

Gwaine nodded and took a deep breath and nodded moving down the hallway. Rick was stepping out of the room with Jordan and Gwaine looked between them.

“Gwaine…” Rick started. “Hey… We didn’t expect you here so soon…”

Gwaine nodded, “How is he?”

Rick looked to Jordan, “Well?”

Jordan swallowed and fumbled with the charts for a moment. They’d x-rayed him and done a few other tests, but in the end he’d been caught in the blast, but not fatal. A minor concussion, some internal bruising and his leg were the main points of injury. 

“All in all he should be at least awake pretty soon.”

Rick nodded stiffly and turned back to the door.

“I… assume you’re going to see TC next.”

“And Halle,” he said looking at her and then into the room. 

He couldn’t help but smile seeing Rick sitting beside Drew’s bedside. He was breathing without any aids and as far as what he remembered from TC’s crash course in medicine, that was the best sign possible.

He somehow knew that visiting TC would be the worse. Jayden was there, checking on Halle, but it was Jordan, again who gave him the rundown. 

“Three GSW’s to the torso,” she said. “He lost a lot of blood. A lot of internal damage. He’s stable but in critical condition--”

“Jordan,” Gwaine cut in. 

“Y-Yes?”

He looked at her, “If you could… cut the jargon and the coddling, I’d appreciate it. Just tell me… if he’ll be okay.”

Jordan swallowed and looked at him. TC was breathing on his own, but they kept him under heavy observation, bandaged up… he wouldn’t be moving for quite sometime, but there was no denying that Halle and Drew, despite their states, had known what they were doing… 

They’d saved his life. 

“I don’t think… Halle would let him be otherwise.”

Gwaine looked at her and she turned to head down the hall. Jayden looked up and shook her head. 

“Piece of work that one,” she said adjusting the blankets over Halle. 

“Can you… at least give me an answer?” Gwaine asked rounding the beds to look down at TC. 

“He flatlined,” she said. “At least once. Halle resuscitated him and practically patched him up herself.”

Jayden turned and shook her head, “TC will be fine.”

Gwaine nodded and took his twin’s hand, squeezing it, “You’d better be.”

*

When Drew woke up, Rick was there, sitting at his bedside holding his hand.

“T’? Where’s… what—“

“Shh,” he soothed, stroking the side of his face that wasn’t bruised all to hell. “You’ve been through the ringer, just take it easy, champ.”

Drew swallowed, “Is he…”

“He’s stable,” Rick said. “In critical condition, they’re keeping a close eye on him, but they’re not sure.”

“H-Halle? She was…”

“Also stable,” he said. “Sedated.  They aren’t sure if it’s shock, blood loss, or the sedative that’s keeping her under though. Three GSWs, lots of blood, nothing major.”

“Cindy—”

“Also, fine,” Rick said. “And for the record, you have a bruised kidney, a minor concussion, several bruises everywhere, and you broke your ankle.”

Drew swallowed, “You could... just tell me to shut up.”

“No,” he said looking at him. “I don’t want you to shut up. I want you to relax.”

Drew looked at his hands and found that it was Rick who was shaking, not him, “You’re shaking.”

“Yeah… I’m shaking.” Rick said with a helpless laugh, “Thought… thought I’d run past your corpse on my way to sweep for bombs.”

Drew smiled, “As if…”

Rick swallowed and nodded, squeezing his hand gently, “Your Mom and the other TC are in TC’s room. Dr. Alexander said I could take you there once they’d checked you over…apparently they need the cot.”

Drew snorted and forced himself to sit up, “Well… let me get off it.”

Krista appeared, a bandage on her cheek and smiling, “Good to see you awake.”

Drew snorted, “Would take a lot more to kill me, trust me, I would know. Now, where are my brothers and TC’s badass girlfriend?”

*

There’s the sound of the EKG first, the slow beeping telling her that she’s alive. Then, there’s pain and light… the ceiling of San Antonio Memorial.

“Welcome back to the world of the living,” she heard and smiled.

“Uncle D’?” She asked, turning her head and trying to sit up. He placed a firm hand on her shoulder.

“Don’t even—“

“TC,” she said, freezing and looking at him. “Where’s—“

“Right next to you,” Cinaed said nodded towards the bed and the other EKG monitor, beeping along steadily. “He’s in much worse state than you are.”

“Is he…”

“Stable,” he said. “Per the doctors, now, will you lie down? Brooklyn and your Dad will be back shortly and I think you know you don’t want them fussing over you.”

She swallowed and eased back with a sigh and looked at him, “Where’s Drew?”

“Also stable, heading this way I hear along with Gwaine and TC’s mother who your Aunt likes greatly and wants to meet you.”

She smiled, from what TC had told her about Regina, she had no doubt that the two of them would get along just fine.

“So… what happened?”

“Disgruntled family, set off two bombs, shot a lot of people including you and TC… Did you two need matching numbers of GSWs or…?”

Halle snorted and looked over to TC’s unconscious body, “I don’t think that was planned.”

He nodded and stood to kiss her head, “I’m glad you’re okay.”

She smiled, “Me too.”

“There’s the woman of the hour!” Brooklyn said coming in, the familiar sound of her heels against the floor oddly soothing.  The woman who came in with Gwaine made her smile.

Regina was a woman who would fit in well with the Martin/Helios/Baker belief in not aging, looking to be in her thirties at oldest and only because of her clothing. Somehow, she was exactly what she imagined when TC talked about his mother.

“Hello Halle,” Regina said. “Gwaine has taken the liberty to tell me quite a lot about you.”

Halle smiled shaking her hand, “It’s nice to meet you. Quite a pair you have.”

She hummed, “Quite a pair indeed… they look even better as part of the set.”

Rick rolled Drew in not too long after looking a tad put out even as Rick smiled.

“What’s wrong?” Regina asked.

“Jordan,” Drew said, “In the way.”

Rick chuckled, apparently Drew had not taken kindly to Jordan’s need to ask a million concussion questions and generally hold up the process to getting Drew to TC’s room, though she very much needed the cot.

“Apparently, she is still terrified of you, Mom.”

Regina smiled, beamed at him and he flushed as she kissed his cheek. Rick rolled him towards TC’s bed to get a good look at him.

“Alive,” Rick said. “As promised.”

Drew nodded and looked at Halle, “How are you?”

Halle nodded, “Alive. My shoulder will be out of commission and my leg I suppose, but… I should be okay.”

“Seems like you’ll be in the wheelchair club together,” Regina said with a smile.

Halle groaned, she hated wheelchairs. Brooklyn only laughed and told her that her father was on his way with as many Baker men as possible. 

She could only groan again.

*

Halle is, more or less, caning around the ward, avoiding Jordan when it happens. She walked into the room that TC has been moved to and Regina is there at his bedside talking to him, there’s a voice from the speaker of her phone talking to. 

She bets that it’s Alex. 

“Well, hello,” Regina greeted. “Come join the, time to talk to TC in hopes that he’ll wake up, hour.”

Halle laughed and walked in, managing to get to the chair without incident even though she feels clumsy with the cane. It was temporary until the physical therapist was absolutely sure that Halle wouldn’t strain herself walking around without it. 

“I don’t believe I ever got a chance to thank you for saving my son.”

Halle chuckled nervously, “I just kept him alive, I’m not--”

“I wasn’t talking about the bullets,” Regina said, letting her eyes drift to TC’s sleeping face. He’d regained some color now that he had the correct amount of blood in his system. “Though, thank you for that as well. I can see why his head is so in love with you…”

Regina reached out to stroke his hair back from his face and Halle realized then that he’d been actually shaved. 

“He… he did a good job avoiding me, but a mother knows her kids,” Regina said with a smile. “I was...afraid that perhaps he’d never pull himself out of the spiral...then all of a sudden he shows up for Christmas… comes over for dinner and doesn’t look like he’s about to bolt. He’s laughing again, really laughing…”

Regina shook her head, “I’m not sure how to explain it, but thank you.”

Halle looked at TC as if seeing something for the first time. It wasn’t just a dying man’s delirium, perhaps… Perhaps he meant it… those three little words that had made her heart stutter, but her all the more determined to save him. 

“I expect you at Fourth of July,” she said. 

Halle laughed and nodded, “I’ll keep it in mind. Is that Alex?”

“Of course,” Regina said. “I think she worries about him almost as much as I do.”

“ _ Of course. Have you seen his face? By the way, Ms. Halle, I’ve been told that you were made for modeling underwear? _ ”

What else… could she do but laugh? Really?


	27. Then, I’ll Raise You Like A Phoenix

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> When the dust has settled, who is left standing?
> 
> What is left standing?

It’s the beeping that tells him that yes, he was alive. It’s the ceiling that tells him that he’s in San Antonio Memorial. There’s pain and something else telling him that he’s been through the ringer, but none of that matters as he managed to look to his right and find no one there.

_ Halle… _ he thought, remembering her pained face, the sound of gunshots.

“Taleisin,” her warm voice said and he looked over at her standing in the doorway. The room is small, he gets the sense that he’s been moved a few times. How long has he been out? 

There are fresh flowers on the bedside table, cards and who knew what else everywhere, but the most important part is that Halle is there in the doorway.

“What?” He asked. 

“Taleisin,” Halle repeated, walking carefully to take the seat beside his bed and take his hand. 

He flushed and then groaned, “You’ve… been talking to Mom haven’t you?”

“Oh yeah,” Halle said proudly. “Let me in on quite a few secrets… She also demands my presence at Fourth of July.”

He chuckled, “Of course… she does…”

“Don’t worry, your first name is safe with me,” Halle said. “Drew was even nice enough to put TC on all of your charts. No big deal.”

TC looked at her smiling a bit, “Are you… okay?”

Halle nodded, “We have matching numbers of holes, but mine aren’t so dangerously placed as yours.”

TC groaned, “Halle…”

“Yes, love?”

“Just don’t call me Swiss?”

She chuckled, “No, I think I’ll call you, Wizard. I like it  a little more.”

TC nodded, “So… how long have I been out?”

“About a month,” she said, squeezing his hand. “You… almost didn’t make it.”

TC nodded, “I… remember a rather… beautiful goddess yelling at me.”

Halle smiled and moved closer to kiss him gently. 

“I love you too,” she said looking at him and she watched him flush ever deeper.

“Oh… I actually said that?”

Halle nodded, “Right before you blacked out.”

TC nodded and grinned, “At least… I had enough sense to say it at least once.”

Halle nodded, “And mean it I hope.”

TC smirked, “I don’t use those words lightly.”

Halle nodded, “Neither do I, Taliesin.”

He groaned and relaxed back against the pillow, “Jesus Halle, I don’t think I have enough blood in my body for this.”

She laughed and kissed his cheek as the door opened.

“Hope we‘re not interrupting, “ Drew greeted.

TC laughed, “No, not like I’m in any condition for anything strenuous.”

Halle grinned at him as Drew crutched in, still wearing his cast and looking a lot better than the last time they’d seen one another. The bruising had faded, his other injuries seemed to be healing and he didn’t seem to be on the verge of punching Jordan either.

“Hey there,” Drew said softly, coming to sit beside him. “How are you feeling?”

TC nodded, “Alive… somehow… less shocky, more pain than I imagined.”

“Three GSWs to the torso,” Drew said. “What else could you expect?”

TC nodded and relaxed back, managing to chat for a little longer before Jordan appeared to check on him and tell him that he would have to take it easy and that they’d keep him under observation for a few more days since he was in a coma for a month. 

TC shrugged, “So… who stitched me up?”

“Halle,” Drew nodded at her. “The internal stitches at least.”

TC looked at her as she looked innocent, “So… my suspicions about you being rather close to  _ Dr.  _ Martin are well founded.”

Halle shrugged, “I’m a surgeon’s assistant.”

“Right…”TC said as she pressed a kiss to his forehead. “Who’s my guardian?”

“That would be your mother,” Halle said. “Gwaine’s busy getting things together to restore the hospital in proper order and I’m still  _ under _ Baker care.”

TC snorted, “Right… where are those fools anyway?”

“Gone to get lunch,” she said. “They’ll be back soon.”

TC nodded and relaxed, thankful to at least have a few moments with her before the Baker men came in to tell him, in no uncertain terms, that if he’d died they would have killed him. It feels oddly warm to hear threats on his life while holding Halle’s hand who tells her family in no uncertain terms “under Baker care or not, I will hurt you”.

*

“TC!”

He looked up at Jordan’s voice who came walking towards him. 

“What is this?” She asked holding up a piece of paper for him to look at.

Without looking at it, he knows it’s the notice from HR saying that he’d given his two-week notice two weeks ago and today was his final day. He knew that this would happen, which was why he’d only talked to Scott and HR, it seemed that they couldn’t hold off until the last minute since it was payday and he was turning everything for the hospital at the end of the shift. 

Ragosa had been fuming, primarily because TC had never burned through his sick leave or all of his vacation. Someone a little higher up, he assumed Ms. Roanoa, had smoothed things over and got everything settled. 

He would hope it was her since she was technically who he was going to go work for now that he’d pronounced his sentence at San Antonio over.

“I believe that’s a notification from HR to tell you to make sure I don’t leave with any hospital property.”

He turned and she cut him off, “You’re  _ quitting? _ ”

“Resigning,” he corrected. “I gave a notice and everything. Look at me… following protocol.”

“Why?” Jordan asked, a little harried, more confused. “Why?”

TC sighed, “Because I should have resigned ages ago, I just… didn’t. It’s time.”

“Someone made you a better offer? Are you going to John Hopkins?”

TC sighed and walked, forcing her to fall into step with him. 

“Baylor? Where?”

“I’m not going to work for another hospital,” he said. “I’m going… back to what I used to do. What I should have been doing from the start.”

Jordan frowned not understanding, “What does that even mean? Are you… Are you re-enlisting?”

TC snorted and looked at her, “You think the army would take me back?”

Jordan worried her lip, not really sure, “Then… then what?”

“T’, still good for breakfast?” Topher asked coming up behind him. “We can’t send you off properly without one last hurrah.”

“Sure thing,” he said and watched Topher walk off. 

“Why am I the last to know?” Jordan asked narrowing her eyes at him. “Are you leaving because of me?”

TC groaned, “That ego of yours is going to get you into trouble, Jordan.”

Jordan flushed as he chuckled, “I’m leaving because I’m ready to, as I told Scott--”

“Scott?” Jordan asked. “Since when were you two so close?”

“Since Scott and I reached an understanding,” he said easily. “You’re the last to know because I knew you’d do this. It’s done Jordan, can’t you just wish me luck, promise to keep in touch, and leave it be?”

“Not when you’re leaving out of the blue!”

TC sighed and regarded her, “Just because you didn’t see it coming, doesn’t mean it’s out of the blue. It’s been a pleasure working with you Dr. Alexander, I wish you the best.”

TC walked around her then, feeling oddly accomplished before hearing her walk into a room and thrash some things around. He found he couldn’t care. While he felt… sort of bad about the change in the composition of the Night Shift with Halle having ended her contract and chose not to renew it with San Antonio. They hadn’t really talked about what she was doing now that she was no longer at the hospital, but they talked about everything else… including his decision to resign.

She’d given him that warm smile over her shoulder as she got ready in what TC could only call a power dress suit. 

_ I’m glad you’re healing, _ is what she said and TC had managed not to ravish her in that moment somehow. 

By the end of his last shift, he was bloody exhausted, he changed out of his scrubs, went to HR to turn in everything. Scott shook his hand, Jordan did the same oddly reserved, but he didn’t care. With his badge and pager handed over, he was completely free. He turned to see Halle walking in. She’d dropped him off, so it was only normal that she would be picking him up. 

“Ready?” She asked a purse on her arm, a smile on her lips, and looking as if she were prepared to conquer the day. 

TC nodded, “Yeah.”

Jordan watched him go feeling odd and oddly out of place. It should have been her to leave San Antonio, to leave him behind, to cut ties completely, but as usual… TC seemed to have beat her to it. She took a seat in the break room and breathed. 

“Hey.”

She looked up to see Scott standing there, “I… have an invitation to TC’s farewell party if you’d like to come.”

Jordan swallowed looking at him. 

“It’s… hard?” Scott asked regarding her. “Hard that it wasn’t you?”

Jordan stammered, “What--”

“To get him to stop?”

Jordan stilled and Scott nodded, “I’ll be outside if you want to come.”

Somehow, she ended up going to the little dinner that most of the Night Shift had taken over in order to wish TC farewell. The room they reserved was all decorated, Gwaine, merlin and several other faces that she didn’t recognize were there. 

And then, there was TC… unmistakably changed for leisure laughing with his arm slung around the back of Halle’s chair as she laughed at whatever Topher’s wife was saying.

“Got it,” TC said and looked up waving at Scott and Jordan. “Hey you two, come join the breakfast party.”

Jordan walked towards a seat and Scott follow, but before the tense atmosphere could really set in, the staff of the diner was coming in, singing about TC’s birthday. Halle laughed. 

“It’s… not my birthday,” TC told them laughing even as they set a stack of pancakes in front of him decorated with apple syrup. 

“Apple?”

“What else?” Halle asked with a smile. 

TC nodded and looked around. He supposed that having flatlined, it might as well be a birthday… especially after physical therapy. He considered for a moment what he would wish for and looked at Halle with a grin before blowing out the candles. 

“What?” Halle asked as he continued to look at her. 

TC only gave her a smile wondering how she’d do her hair to match a wedding gown, if they would move into her house or buy another place, and so many other domestic thoughts that it warms his heart and freaks him out all at once. 

_ Live, T’, _ he heard and turned his head, perhaps seeing Thad in the corner of the room. 

Sindia beamed, “So many warm fuzzies…”

TC nodded and watched the apparition fade away. He swallowed and shook himself free before tearing into the stack of pancakes as more food came out with his usual gusto. 

If he holds Halle a little tighter than usual, she doesn’t seem to mind and, for once in a long time, things feel like they’ve settled into place, new, polished, a little dented, but… fixed, together…

Whole.


End file.
